Trust Book Two
by Woodland Goddess
Summary: CONTINUATION OF TRUST BOOK ONE. Moments of sorrow, moments of joy...can everything Harry holds dear survive the oncoming War? READ BOOK ONE BEFORE THIS! Contains slash.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Trust: Book Two – Chapter One.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Summary: CONTINUATION OF TRUST BOOK ONE. Moments of sorrow, moments of Joy...can everything Harry holds dear survive the oncoming War? READ BOOK ONE BEFORE THIS!

Rated: M

Pairings: Snarry mainly, but includes Draco/Godric and Remus/OC along the way. There'll be other pairings mentioned, like in Book One, but they won't have any paragraphs to themselves. *wink*

Warnings: Sex, language, violence – not necessarily in that order.

Disclaimer: I own nothing publically recognisable; they all belong to JK Rowling. But the characters that were only ever heard of in Trust are MINE.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the delay, but welcome back, readers. ^_^ I hope you're looking forward to this journey as much as I am! Let's get on with it, then! Extra note: Updates will continue to be slow. I'm getting a lot of work done on my real book; chapter eight already! I'm hoping to get at least 2 books finished and the third started by next year. I want to try to get my first book published well before the release of Catching Fire in the cinema next year because I want to be in Canada with my friends for it. So, please, bear with me ^_^

Chapter One

Harry lay on the floor in the living room of the cottage he shared with Severus, his stomach and chest resting against the soft wood flooring, arms by his sides. He had his head turned towards the fireplace, lifelessly staring into the crackling fire, which danced merrily in the grate, oblivious to Harry's feelings of hopelessness. Thrasos was curled up behind his head, resting his own head against the side of Harry's face, chirping quietly in his ear, as if trying to will some good feelings into the young Wizard.

But that was not going to happen any time soon. Harry was so unaware of his surroundings, so absorbed in his thoughts of the boy who had become like his kid brother and the girl who had become his friend that he never noticed the entrance of the man he loved, whose sheer presence should have resulted in a coy smile and sparkling emerald eyes. Harry only realized the older man had appeared when Severus said his name in a soft voice, pulling him out of the recesses of his mind.

Harry shifted his gaze, focusing those lifeless eyes on his lover, who was as handsome as ever. Severus wore a pair of form-fitting black trousers and a forest green shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up, that sinful barely-there-sprinkling of fine black hair leading up to his elbows visible. Harry had to admit that the look suited him quite well, but it was obvious the man had been in the kitchen, making breakfast, for a tea towel hung from his plain, black leather belt. Black eyes softened by affection gazed down at him. "There's breakfast on the table."

"I'm not hungry," Harry mumbled, shifting his arm so he could bury his face in the crook of his elbow. He heard Severus let out a sigh of frustration and take several steps forward. He, however, was not prepared for when both of Severus' hands gripped the back of his obscenity-shouting t-shirt, hauling him bodily up from the floor, forcibly setting him down on his feet. Harry struggled against the older man's grip, glowering at his lover. "Let go of me, Severus. Let go of me, right now!"

"What happened with Donny and the Prewitt girl wasn't your fault, Harry." Severus' hands moved to Harry's upper arms, gripping tightly as he stared down at the boy. "There was no way any of us could have known that the Dark Lo –" Harry gave him a sharp glare, so Severus amended himself, "that Voldemort had been planning an abduction at King's Cross Station. There was no way; so will you, please, stop being such a damned emotional martyr for the bloody cause?" Severus finished, his tone sharpened slightly.

Harry turned his face away, gazing off to the side, his face an expression of anger. "You're one to talk, Severus," Harry retorted quietly, but he instantly knew that he had hit the man below the belt as Severus inhaled sharply and released him, practically shoving him away as he proceeded to storm towards the living room door. "I'm sorry," Harry blurted immediately, taking after Severus, the love of his life. "I'm sorry, Severus! I didn't mean it!" Harry caught the man's arm as Severus took hold of the door handle. "I didn't thi –"

"No, you never do, do you?" Severus snapped, whirling around to face him, the lack of black robes making it no less intimidating. Severus looked livid and with reason, Harry knew. What Harry had said had been far from fair. "You always jump straight into things without any forethought," his furious lover hissed, "and one day it'll get you killed. I'll be damned if I watch it hap –" Severus gasped in surprise as Harry threw his arms around Severus' neck and shut the man up with a kiss that was deep, passionate and indescribably loving. The older Wizard stumbled backwards, so unprepared was he for the assault, his back hitting the door as Harry followed him, pressing against Severus in all the right places.

Hell, more than right; perfect.

They were standing in almost the exact spot where they had shared their first kiss the previous summer and this time, Harry had been the instigator of their passionate meeting of mouths and tongues. Harry sighed in pleasure when Severus' hand found its way into his hair, fingertips caressing his scalp. They were so engrossed in each other's kiss that both of them failed to hear the floo flare to vibrant, green life and the subsequent clearing of a throat that followed it. For the longest time, their kiss was driven by Severus' anger and Harry's need for forgiveness but, eventually, their kiss gentled until finally they had to break apart, their chests heaving from their shared passion.

Harry rested his head against Severus shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his fingers idly beginning to play with the cuff of Severus' sleeve. Severus said nothing in response but held him closer still, as if trying to fuse them together. Severus closed his eyes and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Harry's head. Harry's eyes drifted closed at the soft touch of Severus' lips against his hair. Harry had never felt so at peace than he did when he was in Severus' arms, even when he was feeling a terrible melancholy.

"Sorry to burst this lovey-dovey bubble, but there's someone here to see you." Harry and Severus almost leapt out of their skins as the voice came from near the fireplace. Still in Severus' arms, Harry whirled around to face the intruder only to see Remus and Dalmazio Moretti standing by the fireplace, smiling cheerfully at them.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, utterly bewildered. "I thought you were out looking for Donny and Crystal?" he demanded to know, hands balling into fists at his sides. They had refused to allow him to accompany them the night before, which Harry felt was completely unjust. He would have been able to search for them as well as any of the Werewolves and, being larger, he would have been able to cover more ground than a Werewolf could have. In response to his anger and bewilderment, Severus settled his hands on Harry's shoulders, squeezing lightly.

"We were," Remus replied, the lines at the corners of his crinkling deeper as his smile broadened. "We have a surprise for you, Harry!" Without another word, Remus and Dalmazio stepped aside, in opposite directions and Harry felt his heart leap up into his throat and lodge there indefinitely at the sight before him. Behind him, Severus inhaled sharply. Standing there, between Remus and Dalmazio, was none other than Donatello, looking world-weary and pained but whole nonetheless. Harry took a step towards him, hand partially outstretched, unable to quite believe that the boy was really standing there.

In that instant, Donatello's amber eyes filled with tears and then he was running across the room even as Harry fell to his knees, arms out. The young werewolf collided with Harry with such vigour it sent both of them tumbling to the floor, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Harry did not feel the pain as his shoulders slammed into the ground; he was far too busy hugging the living daylights out of the boy who had become so much like his kid brother. Donatello was clinging to him as if Harry could protect him from anything and everything when the first sob came, causing the boy's shoulders to shake violently.

Then, they kept on coming, getting louder and louder as tears spilled down the boy's cheeks. Harry's hand found its way to the back of Donatello's head, carding his fingers through the soft curls in a soothing fashion. "Donny, it's okay. It's okay, I have you now," Harry whispered, tightening his hold on the boy. "I have you and I'm never letting you go. _Never_." In response, Donatello cried all the harder, burying his face into Harry's shoulder. He was so wrapped up in the little boy clinging to him that Harry only vaguely noticed that Remus, Dalmazio and Severus had discreetly left the room, giving them some time together.

As soothingly as he could, he rubbed circles into Donatello's back with his hand, right between the shoulder blades. Harry nuzzled the top of the boy's head, whispering, "you're safe, Donny, you're safe. It's alright." For quite some time, the boy sobbed and shook in his arms, clearly reliving something terrible in his mind. But Harry did not pry; Donatello would tell him what happened when he was ready to. No one could force these things; they took time. Every moment of Harry's time belonged to Donatello now.

He would help the boy heal from the cruel things that he must have suffered. He promised to himself and to Donatello. Donatello's sobbing began to ease off into hiccoughs before he finally drifted off to sleep in Harry's arms. Doing his best to cast a wandless _Featherweight Charm_ on Donatello, Harry climbed up from the floor and carried the sleeping lad over to the couch. Harry settled himself on the sofa and cuddled the boy against him, continuing to card his fingers through the boy's soft locks.

Harry stayed with him as he slept, unwilling to take his eyes off Donatello, even for a moment...

θθθ

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Bill Weasley kept their wands trained upon the Werewolf now bound magically to the visitors' chair in Headmaster Dumbledore's office. The black eyes flitting from one to the other of them left them feeling like hunted rabbits in the wild. They knew he could not escape from the chair; Albus Dumbledore's magic was far too powerful for even a Werewolf to break through. But the mere thought of such a notoriously deranged Werewolf having them within their sights made them feel...vulnerable.

Bill Weasley, who had had the misfortune to encounter this particularly terrifying Werewolf the previous year, felt particularly vulnerable in his presence, though he tried not to show it. He could still remember being pinned to the stone staircase, could still remember the terror of that claw slashing towards his face, as if it would rip his skin clean off his skull. The incident still gave him nightmares at night, disrupting his sleep, his screams of terror alarming his wife-to-be when they woke her.

"I can smell your fear, you know," Greyback commented idly, dark gaze lingering rather disturbingly on Bill, now. "It's really quite intoxicating. I would greatly appreciate it if you would please abandon it; I would like to have my wits about me when dealing with your leader. I hear he can be as slippery as a fish fresh out of water when he wishes to be."

Bill's wand arm trembled, his hand tightening around his wand, as he opened his mouth to spit a curse at the vile excuse for a Werewolf sitting before him. "Mr Weasley," Albus said sharply as he opened the door to his office, stepping through the doorway with Professor Slytherin and Brad Dale – looking quite tired and beat up, still – in his wake, "stop that at once. If you can't be civil during this interrogation, I will be forced to ask you to leave. Even Mr Greyback has the right to be fully functioning during a questioning."

Bill shut his mouth instantly, teeth clicking against each other with the force of it. He kept his wand trained upon the Werewolf, however. Bill allowed his gaze to flicker towards the others entering the room. Albus took his seat behind his desk, while Slytherin stood quite close by. Brad leaned against the nearby wall, his head just beneath the portrait of Armando Dippet. The young man was positively staring at Greyback, but his eyes were not filled with fear; even Bill could see that much.

"Now, Mr Greyback," Albus said, making steeples of his fingers as he gazed across his desk at the bound Werewolf, "I would like to ask you a few questions and the first is whether you are willing to take Veritaserum for the duration of the interrogation."

Greyback looked directly at Albus for the longest moment, clearly contemplating, lips set in a firm line. "I could refuse," Greyback said slowly and his black eyes flitted over to Brad, who wrapped his arms around himself as he shivered, "but I'm not going to; there are things worth more than my right to decline if I so wished."

Albus' blue gaze twinkled as he noticed where Greyback's gaze was directed. "Very well," he said, regaining the Werewolf's attention. "I'm glad this is going so peacefully. Salazar will administer the truth serum, now." The blonde Potions Master strode towards the bound Werewolf, withdrawing a vial of Veritaserim from his robes. Greyback watched him approach and opened his mouth obediently when Slytherin removed the stopper from the vial. Slytherin administered three drops of the serum and stepped back as Greyback swallowed. A slight haze came over Greyback's black eyes and Albus leaned forward, clearly meaning business. "Is your name Fenrir Greyback?"

"Yes," Greyback answered without hesitation.

Albus smiled and so the interrogation began. "Why did you defy the Dark Lord in order to help Bradley Dale and the other two captives escape Lestrange Manor?"

A strange smile began easing its way across Greyback's mouth. "Because he's my mate and I want to win his heart and spend the rest of my days loving him and protecting him."

Bill almost dropped his wand at that announcement, he was so shocked, but as it was, his jaw plummeted through the floor. Brad blushed crimson and his hair ran purple with the strength of his embarrassment. Eyes twinkling even brighter, Albus just smiled triumphantly and said, "You see, Bill? Love _is_ the most powerful force –"

But Greyback kept talking. "Discovering he was my mate also helped me take control for a little while. I've wanted to take charge of this body for so long now, I'm almost jumping for joy. Have you any idea how long I've been enslaved to that monster? My idiotic human counterpart signed a magical contract with the Dark Lord back in the forties, when the world was too busy worrying about Grindelwald to notice his gradual rise to power."

"Why did he do that?" Albus asked, brows knitting together in confusion.

"He wanted to help me and my kind get rights equal to those of a Wizard; the Dark Lord assured us that, if we worked for him, he would grant that to us. My human counterpart didn't read the fine print."

"What fine print?"

"The fine print that stated I had to infect as many children as possible, so that they would grow into powerful fighters for his army."

This time Bill really did drop his wand...

θθθ

A man with a full head of thick, lustrous dark blonde hair, falling in waves to his shoulders stood outside a small cottage in Wizarding Ashburton in Devon, leaning on his staff. Brown eyes gleaming with intrigue, Merlin Ambrosius studied the building ahead of him. There was someone in there, waiting to be found. He had only used basic protections, which most strong Wizards and Witches could pass through if they shielded their magical signature. Yes, this man wanted to be found; he was just biding his time, waiting for the right people to find him.

Coming to a decision, Merlin stepped forward, carrying his staff in his hand. He passed through the basic protective enchantments slowly, as if he were moving through a wall of taffy, and then he was on the other side as if there had never been any enchantments laid down at all. The alarms never went off; this was good. He wanted to surprise the man within the cottage, who was at that very moment sitting down to breakfast, his back to the window, as if there were no chance an enemy would have bothered to search him out.

A nonverbal charm had the front door clicking open before he even reached it and another had the door swinging open to admit him. The door closed behind him as soon as he had crossed the threshold of the cottage. On silent feet he stepped into the kitchen. The dark-haired man did not notice his arrival until he had a spoon of soft-boiled egg almost touching his mouth. But when he spotted him the spoon slipped from his slack hand and the runny egg slopped down his green shirt.

His blue-grey eyes grew impossibly wide at the sight of Merlin, which only caused the Half-Demon to smirk in amusement. The chair toppled to the floor as the dark-haired wizard thrust to his feet. "How did you get in here?" the man demanded to know, hands gripping the table, as if to lend him strength and keep him upright.

"Through the front door, obviously," Merlin replied dryly, striding across the kitchen as if he owned the property. He pulled out the second chair, twirled it around on two of its legs and sat down upon it, resting his arms upon the back of it. He watched in amusement as the dark-haired Wizard opposite him struggled to figure out what exactly was going on. "Shut your mouth, boy; you look like a codfish," Merlin scolded, pointing his staff at him as if he were a five-year-old and needed to be told off.

The dark-haired man shut his mouth and then asked in a hard voice, "Who are you? Who sent you? Why are you here?"

"I came to enlist your help, of course. No one sent me, though I do have...ties of a sort with someone quite well-known. Your brother knew him very well, once upon a time," Merlin retorted, a hint of anger driving a moment of callousness. The shift in emotion in the man's eyes was enough to know Merlin had hurt him. Feeling only slightly ashamed of himself, he quickly changed topic to the one question he had not answered yet. "And really? _I _thought I had my face on a Chocolate Frog Card! You're the third person who didn't recognise me and it's getting tiresome!"

But the man before him would not be deterred. "Do _not_ mention Sirius to me! Not_ ever_!"

To Be Continued.

Chapter 1 at last. Whew! I've been writing little bits of this for weeks, in between all my other work. Tough going!

I hope you guys liked it.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Two.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: I know I've left you with a lot of questions in Chapter One, there is a purpose, which will all be revealed in due time. **ALSO** if anyone reading my fic is on **POTTERMORE**, feel free to friend me if you like. ^_^ I'm SkullQueen23585 and I'm in Hufflepuff house. (Ironic isn't it? Lol). ALSO, House-Elf speech contains deliberate grammatical mistakes.

Chapter Two

Harry, far too busy watching over Donatello as the boy slept, had completely forgotten that breakfast had been prepared by Severus. That is, until the man returned from the kitchen, bearing a tray filled with numerous breakfast foods, from pancakes to cereal. Severus' return gained his attention immediately and he smiled softly up at the man he loved when Severus came to a halt next to the sofa. "In case the little man wakes up," Severus said when Harry eyed the food-laden tray in amusement.

Harry's eyes twinkled brightly in a way that was very reminiscent of Dumbledore when Severus said that and the man looked to the ceiling briefly, letting out quite a long sigh of slight annoyance. "Lupin mentioned they haven't had breakfast yet, because Donny wanted to come here to see you as soon as he got some sleep. I didn't bring breakfast in for him simply because I'm secretly a really sweet man once you get past my harsh exterior, which you're far too fond of mentioning."

"I didn't say anything of the sort," Harry teased, smirking up at his lover, his amusement deepening.

"No, but you were thinking it."

"You were reading my mind?" Harry asked, eyebrows lifting in surprise.

Severus smirked and the sight of it sent Harry's heart and stomach fluttering within him. "No, I just know you too well. Besides, how many times must I tell you; you can't read someone's mind. It's not a book!" Colour flushed into Harry's cheeks at Severus' tone. Even after all this time a quirk of Severus' mouth and a certain tone of voice could still leave Harry a hormonal wreck. Luckily for Harry the sound of Severus' voice gaining pitch so close by ended up waking the sleeping boy snuggling against him.

"Hey," Harry said gently, hugging the boy warmly, "are you hungry?" Nodding, Donatello shifted so that he was sitting next to Harry, looking at the tray of food with mounting hunger. Harry held his hands out to accept the tray, which Severus handed to him easily. "Thank you," Harry offered, smiling at the man, brushing a light kiss against Severus' cheek as he was leaning down. Severus waved his gratitude away and slipped out of the room, presumably returning to the kitchen to have adult conversation with Remus and Dalmazio – though Harry knew Severus would rather be tortured than admit he actually enjoyed Remus' company.

In silence Harry and Donatello shared breakfast, Donatello taking the cereal, while Harry took the pancakes. They divided the toast up equally and had a glass of orange juice each. When they finished eating, Harry set the tray to the side and made to get up off the couch, but Donatello caught him around the middle, hugging him again. Harry carded his fingers through Donatello's dark curls and leaned down to brush a kiss against the boy's forehead. "Have you ever decorated a tree before?"

Donatello looked up at him, shaking his head. Harry smiled. "Good, then," he said, gesturing towards the bare pine tree in the corner of the room, "because we have a tree that needs decorating. Do you want to help me?" Eyes lighting up like Christmas lights Donatello nodded vigorously, his enthusiasm plain. "Just let me bring the tray into the kitchen and we'll get right to it." Harry smiled as the boy let go of him, hoping up off the couch instantly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

Harry brought the tray into the kitchen, setting it down on the table. He smiled at the three adults seated around the table. "Donny and I are going to decorate the Christmas tree," Harry said excitedly, eyes sparkling with a happiness Severus had not seen in some time, "like a _real_ family!"

Remus and Dalmazio stood up simultaneously. "We'll help, too," they said in unison, before glancing sideways at each other and laughing.

"Do you want to help, Sev?" Harry asked, beaming at his lover. Severus stared at him for the longest moment, the emotion in his eyes indecipherable. Then, with every ounce of grace that befitted a man such as him, Severus rose from his chair. Harry clapped his hands as he let out an excited giggle, before dashing off into the living room, snapping his fingers as he skidded to a stop by the tree. With a loud crack both Dobby and Kreacher apparated into the living room, bowing deeply as Severus, Remus and Dalmazio entered from the kitchen.

"Master Donny, sir," Dobby squealed before hugging Donatello's legs tightly. "Dobby is being pleased to be seeing you is being safe with Master Harry Potter again! Can Dobby be getting anything for Master Donny, sir?"

When Donatello looked overwhelmed by Dobby's happiness at seeing him safe, Harry came to the rescue. "Actually you can help _me_, Dobby," Harry said, smiling when the House-Elf squealed again, before hugging him as tightly as he had hugged Donatello. "We want to decorate the tree; where did you put the decorations?" Dobby and Kreacher shared a look and then disapparated together, returning moments later with numerous boxes of decorations, setting them all down on the floor near the tree. "Thanks, you guys," Harry said sincerely, smiling at the pair of them. Dobby and Kreacher bowed and disapparated from sight.

"Well, then," Remus said, a benign smile on his face as he reached into one box, pulling out a string of fairy lights. Harry stared at them, eyebrows rising so high they threatened to disappear into his hairline. They literally _were_ fairy lights; numerous fairies, looking rather stoned as they glowed in different colours, were attached to a long Slytherin-green rope that would wrap around the tree multiple times. "Let's get started and why don't we sing a nice Christmas song while we work?"

Remus tossed one end of the rope of fairy lights to Donatello, who caught it deftly, careful not to hurt the little fairies. "I'll start us off – Severus you'll know the words to this one, I'm sure," Remus said, winking at the dour professor, before grinning like an idiot.

"Oh, joy," Severus said dryly as Remus and Donatello began wrapping the fairy lights around the tree. And then Remus started warbling, quite Badly.

"On the first day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us a food fight in the Great Hall."

Harry burst out laughing when Severus groaned, "Sweet Merlin, not that old tripe again. Do we have to go through this?" But Remus kept going and Harry, Donatello and Dalmazio joined in for the easy bits.

_On the second day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall._

_On the third day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us three epic snowball fights, two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall._

_On the fourth day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us four exploding cauldrons, three epic snowball fights, two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall._

_On the fifth day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us FIVE HUNDRED POINTS! Four exploding cauldrons, three epic snowball fights, two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall._

_On the sixth day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us six detentions, FIVE HUNDRED POINTS! Four exploding cauldrons, three epic snowball fights, two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall._

_On the seventh day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us seven pissed-off Slytherins –_

"I remember that," Severus said, a sudden surprised laugh escaping him. "Rosier's face that day was priceless."

_Six detentions, FIVE HUNDRED POINTS! Four exploding cauldrons, three epic snowball fights, two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall._

_On the eighth day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us eight toilets a-flooding, seven pissed-off Slytherins, six detentions, FIVE HUNDRED POINTS! Four exploding cauldrons, three epic snowball fights, two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall._

_On the ninth day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us nine Elves a-dancing, eight toilets a-flooding, seven pissed-off Slytherins, six detentions, FIVE HUNDRED POINTS! Four exploding cauldrons, three epic snowball fights, two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall._

_On the tenth day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us ten stampeding Centaurs, nine Elves a-dancing, eight toilets a-flooding, seven pissed-off Slytherins, six detentions, FIVE HUNDRED POINTS! Four exploding cauldrons, three epic snowball fights, two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall._

_On the eleventh day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us eleven Christmas trees a-blaze, ten stampeding Centaurs, nine Elves a-dancing, eight toilets a-flooding, seven pissed-off Slytherins, six detentions, FIVE HUNDRED POINTS! Four exploding cauldrons, three epic snowball fights, two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall. _

_On the twelfth day of Christmas, the Marauders gave to us twelve destroyed paintings, eleven Christmas trees a-blaze, ten stampeding Centaurs, nine Elves a-dancing, eight toilets a-flooding, seven pissed-off Slytherins, six detentions, FIVE HUNDRED POINTS! Four exploding cauldrons, three epic snowball fights, two cranky professors and a food fight in the Great Hall._

Harry, Severus and Dalmazio helped hang the tinsel and baubles once Remus and Donatello had finished with the fairy lights. There was much laughter and exchanging of stories...or rather, Remus blathering on about all of the Christmases with James and Sirius, where he had played tricks on them. In spite of the loathing Severus would have the world believe he felt for Remus; Harry noticed that several of Remus' stories made the dour professor smirk, if not outright smile in amusement. But, then again, any story where James Potter ended up having udders attached to his face and Sirius Black ended up with Slytherin-green hair was bound to be found secretly hilarious by Severus.

Donatello and his uncle stayed rather silent, save for bouts of laughter, and Harry found himself ready to start sharing Christmas stories, but – oddly enough – Severus beat him to the punch. Harry stared at the man he loved as he recounted, in a quiet voice, tales of his many escapades with Lily during their shared childhood. Harry shared a glance with Remus, whose eyes were as round as golf balls, virtually ready to fall out of their sockets with the strength of his surprise.

Harry listened in silence, eyes shining, as Severus told them of one foreign holiday Lily had dragged him on with her family during the Christmas holidays; a holiday to Germany. It was both heart-warming...and saddening, to hear Severus talk about the time he had spent with Harry's grandparents, talking and laughing...treating him as if he were the nephew they had never had, but always wanted. It had not mattered, it seemed, what part of Cokeworth Severus had come from. It had not mattered that he was a meek little boy, far too thin and malnourished in comparison to their well-rounded daughter.

When Severus fell utterly silent, Harry did not hesitate to reach out across the distance between them and catch the man's graceful hand in his own, squeezing lightly. If the others noticed they said nothing, looking away while in the process of doing something else, giving the two of them a semblance of privacy. Severus looked at him and those obsidian depths caused Harry's breath to hitch. The look was not anything sexual, not with three Werewolves in the room, in fact it screamed of anger but Harry felt a shiver run down his spine all the same.

His cheeks tinged with a faint pink Harry hastily pulled his hand away and began busying himself with getting more decorations to put on the tree. He would swear he heard Remus sniggering in the background and his face flushed with even more colour. "Shut up, Remus."

In response, Remus burst out laughing, shaking his head. "You love me, really, Harry."

"That's what I want you to believe," Harry replied straight-faced, before yelping in surprise with Remus poked him in the armpit. Harry immediately poked him back. Twice. Thus began their Poking War that had Severus rolling his eyes as he battled to keep his patience...

To Be Continued.

The above version of 12 Days of Christmas was written by my friend, Slone, over on kingscrossstation(dot)proboards(dot)com, who said I could use it in my fic when I asked her at Christmas...Lol.

I meant to have this chapter up on Sunday, but I've been sick the past few days, but I had to get it done by today. HAPPY INTERNATIONAL HARRY POTTER DAY! 7 MINUTES OF SILENCE AT 7 PM, IN ALL TIME ZONES, IN MEMORY OF THE BEST SERIES EVER WRITTEN! ^_^ 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Trust Book 2 – Chapter Three.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thank you, so much, for the reviews and alerts, you guys. ^_^ I'm SO sorry it was such a long wait for this! My friend dared me to get so many chapters of my book done before I fly out to Orlando on the 26th of this month (I'M GOING TO HARRY POTTER LAND OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!). So I was really focused on that and made sure I hit the target well in advance so that I'd have time to work on this. I got to Chapter 12! I feel so proud of myself, LOL! Also, I've been bogged down with exams and studying and my facebook addiction (*awkward laugh* I'm almost wondering if I should create a page for Woodland Goddess, lol). But you don't want to hear about that, so here's the next instalment of Trust Book 2, guys!

Chapter Three

The rest of the morning continued in a rather happy fashion, or at least Harry thought so. When it was time for lunch, Remus, Harry and Severus enjoyed sandwiches, tea and coffee while Dalmazio and Donatello both gulped down a few cups of hot chocolate, wearing ridiculously appreciative expressions. Harry was sitting next to Severus at the kitchen table, Donatello was between Harry and Dalmazio and Remus was on Severus' other side – which irritated Severus beyond belief though he said nothing about it.

Right now the kitchen table was small, but it would be much bigger on Christmas day. Hell, the entire room would be much bigger that day, when all of the people Harry considered family would arrive. Harry greatly anticipated that day. He was looking forward to the hug Mrs Weasley would bestow upon him and to the fireworks Fred and George would surely have in store for them that day. He would take many photographs that day, documenting the day, because one could never know when the war might strike close to home.

When lunch was finished Remus rose from his chair and stretched luxuriously, eyes closing momentarily before he looked down at Harry with a smile. "Well, it's about time we started getting back," he said as Dalmazio got to his feet beside him. Dalmazio held his arms out for Donatello and the boy eagerly climbed into his uncle's arms, like a chocolate-skinned monkey, resting his head tiredly upon the older Werewolf's shoulder. "The pack will be wondering where we are by now."

Harry rose, too, following rules of etiquette that had been drilled into him by the Dursleys when he was a child. Harry moved around the table quickly and hugged Remus warmly, burying his face in the man's torso as the older man wrapped his arms around him in return. "You don't need to act as if you'll never see me again," Remus said warmly, one hand resting lightly against the back of Harry's head. "I'm only an apparition away!"

"I know," Harry said, resting his forehead against Remus' chest. "But I hardly ever see you and, with everything that's going on now, every time you leave my sight might very well be that last time I'll see you." The words were quiet, but everyone in the room heard them, leaving an unbearable silence in the room, thick and heavy.

Remus' arms tightened reflexively around Harry, squeezing him closer. "Now, don't you be thinking like that," Remus scolded quietly, taking a step back, hands coming to rest upon Harry's shoulders. Remus looked down into Harry's face. His expression was stern, but affectionate. "Negative thinking is a very dangerous thing."

"He's not being negative – he's being a realist," Severus interjected pointedly, face half-hidden by a fresh cup of coffee, the steam swirling through the air in front of his face. "The likelihood of any of the Order surviving the war is quite slim; when one considers the sheer number of dangerous situations we always seem to throw ourselves into." Everyone looked at him and he raised a brow in response. "Did you honestly expect me to dance around the subject as if the notion were impossible? Thinking that everyone will make it out of this war safe and sound is as foolish as thinking everyone will die. The truth is; you can never know. You just have to be prepared for all possible outcomes."

"Severus is right," Dalamazio said, his expression serious but still warm. "There's no telling what might happen between now and the next time we see each other." To prove he was quite serious about the matter, he brushed a kiss against Donatello's raven locks, before resting his forehead briefly against the side of Remus' head. Watching them, Harry felt a little butterfly flutter in his stomach. He was uncertain why he felt like that. He had a wonderful relationship with Severus, after all. The love he shared with Severus was not lacking in the least, so what was the meaning of this weird sensation in the pit of his stomach?

"In any case," Severus continued as if Dalmazio had never spoken, finishing his cup of coffee. "It's my turn to assess the progress of your pack's training, much to my chagrin. So...get a coat; I'm not leaving you here on your own – I'd come back and the cottage would be in ruins. Or worse you'd have caused yourself to explode from sheer stupidity." Laughter erupted from Remus as a big grin stretched across Harry's face. Sticking his tongue out at Remus and Severus, he ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom.

In record time Harry was back with a winter coat. It looked more trendy than practical, but with Wizards that usually never mattered; it would work just as good if not better than a much bulkier Muggle coat. "I'm ready!" Harry exclaimed, bursting into the kitchen with his white coat on and hood up. Severus glanced at him and even though he knew it was just a glance, it felt more like long, slow perusal. It sent a blush racing through Harry's cheeks. "Let's go!" he said, jumping up and down in excitement.

"You're like a puppy," Remus mused, amber eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Yes," Severus concurred, nodding severely, black eyes glittering in their fathomless way. Harry stopped bouncing, mouth dropping open in surprise, staring at Severus as if the man had suddenly grown an extra head. Severus had _agreed_ with _Remus_ on something! Surely the world was about to implode from the shock of that concept! But Harry's surprise was destroyed with the next few words out of his lover's mouth. "Soon he'll be urinating all over the floor. Really, Harry, you must learn to calm down," the man said, eyeing him shrewdly as Remus snickered in the background.

Harry swatted the man's shoulder without hesitation. "You're just jealous of my boundless energy."

"Boundless energy? Hardly! By tonight you will be comatose."

"Is that a promise?" Harry asked, his voice as cool as a cucumber, though his face went crimson.

With good reason Remus began sputtering incomprehensibly. "I don't want to know," Remus cried, covering his ears and closing his eyes. "La, la, la, la! I'm not listening!" Harry suppressed a laugh as Severus' jaw tightened. Harry knew he was going to regret it afterwards, but it was totally worth it. Harry leaned down and brushed a kiss against the man's furrowed forehead. Severus grunted, which just made Harry smile a bit more. "Let's get out of here before either one of you decides to be perverted," Remus said, the tops of his ears reddening.

"But Remus, I'm a teenager; I'm always perverted!"

"Harry, do shut up," Severus as he rose to his feet, clearly trying to save face in front of Remus. Severus led the way out of the kitchen, through the hallway and out the front door into the open air. The wind bit sharply at Harry's cheeks and nose, reddening them within moments, while Severus seemed to be quite unaffected by the weather, as if his body was made of chill-resistant material. Harry assumed the man had used non-verbal magic of some sort, but could not be bothered with finding out for certain.

Harry sidled up to his lover's side and linked his arm through Severus'. He smiled up at him as Severus arched an eyebrow. Severus shook his head slightly in annoyance, but did not pull his arm away. He turned on the spot, disapparating with a soft crack, popping into existence in the middle of Snowdonia – fitting considering the mountains and valleys were blanketed in a thick layer of ice and snow. They found themselves surrounded by a bunch of Werewolves. The Werewolves were dressed, knowing that Severus would be on his way – and Severus was not the type of man to accept tradition as an excuse for nudity.

That and Harry was certain the man feared Harry would watch the men in all their masculine glory. But Harry had eyes for only one man and that man was Severus – the one and only bat from Hell. Or was that Heaven? Harry asked himself, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in amusement. But Harry had little time to continue thinking of Severus because at that moment Lydia and Aldabella bowled him over, toppling him over backwards, knocking him down into the snow.

Harry squealed as their fingers sought out all of his ticklish spots – even through his clothes! Damnably cute little girls that they were, Harry did not have the heart to push them off – he probably would have been able to anyway, given their superior strength to his own. Severus smirked down at him, clearly refusing to come to his aid, despite Harry's pleading glances. Harry's breath rushed out of him when Donatello joined the two girls in their quest to leave Harry paralyzed with laughter.

Severus stalked off with the adults and the older kids, to test their magical abilities and instruct them on how to improve in whatever area they lacked in. This left Harry with the three youngest cubs, who tickled him until Harry could no longer breathe – at which point they stopped tickling him and cuddled into his torso. Harry ran his hand through their dark curls and let out a deep, rumbling purr, rather reminiscent of his Animagus form. "Aw, you make such a cute little kitty," said a familiar voice, warm with teasing tones.

Harry sprang upwards onto his feet with the force of his surprise, his eyes almost exploding out of his sockets as he saw Tonks waddling out of the cave. She was wrapped up in a fur throw, her belly distended quite clearly, causing her Weird Sisters t-shirt to stretch across her abdomen. "When the hell did that happen? And what is it? A baby whale," Harry burst out, before slapping his hand over his mouth, suddenly fearful the woman might explode at him in a fit of hormonal rage.

But Tonks merely grunted, her hair turning a deep blue as she slowly eased herself down onto the ground beside the three Werewolf cubs. "Long story," she said, rubbing her cheek tiredly, "and it certainly feels like it, the little bugger's been a big fat parasite since Sep-bloody-tember. Didn't know it then, of course." Settling down beside, he looked at her more closely and saw that she was getting the slightest hint of bags under her eyes.

"Who's the father? Is he taking care of you?" Harry asked quietly, though he knew she must have heard the concern and care for her he felt.

Tonks let out a soft laugh. "Yeah...yeah he is. It's why I'm here actually; Andrew wanted me to visit him this time, enjoy the snow and stuff, spend time with the family and get to know everybody. Remus charmed the furs for me, to keep me extra warm in this weather – my magic's been on the fritz since I got knocked up."

"So, it's Andrew, then?"

"Yeah." Tonks rested her chin on her knuckles, her elbow resting on her leg. She leaned slightly forward. Harry could not help but think she looked rather sad.

"Do you..." Harry blushed, not sure if he was allowed to ask – it was a rather personal question after all. He would not be surprised if it resulted in a slap of some sort. "Do you...regret it? You look kind of miserable..."

"Hmm...? Oh, no! Of course not! I'm really very happy; so happy I could cry – and have done so a lot." Here Tonks laughed, her face warming with mirth, but she was pensive again almost immediately. "I've just haven't been getting much sleep lately. Were you aware that it's a crime to have a relationship with a Werewolf – even a registered one? I didn't...well, I mean, I knew...I just...it didn't really register at the time, you know...too busy thinking about other things to be worried about consequences."

"Yeah, I can totally understand that," Harry said quietly. The two of them looked off into the forest, Harry thinking about Severus and the possible future that lay before them and Tonks thinking about the cub growing within her as she rested her other hand upon her abdomen, fingers splayed almost protectively across the swelling. When Tonks hand fell to rest on his own, he did not pull away in surprise. Instead, he turned his hand over, gripping hers warmly and securely, a sign that he would stand by her, no matter what might happen in the future, because that's what friends – and family – did for each other.

That's what they were. They were friends, but they were also family. The Order of the Phoenix was just one big family; he cared for every single one of them – and now he knew, most assuredly, he would have to get them all into a picture this year...even if he had to drag Severus into it. "Got any names in mind?"

Tonks smiled. "Duh. Theodore Andrew Moretti if it's a boy, or, if it's a girl, Theodora Andromeda Moretti; how do they sound?"

"They sound brilliant!" Harry said, grinning from ear to ear.

Tonks smile widened for a moment, before she looked off again, nibbling her lower lip, clearly hesitating over something that was obviously important to her. "Do you...do you want to be Godfather, when the time comes? Ginny's going to be Godmother; I asked her when I visited the Burrow yesterday..."

Harry's heart swelled. He could hardly believe that Tonks had just asked him to be the Godfather of her child! He would be partly responsible for how that child was raised! When Tonks needed a babysitter, he would be top of the list! It would be the first step towards a family of his own! Excitement bubbled up inside of him immediately. His answer exploded out of him in an instant. "Yes! YES! A thousand times yes!" Promptly, he threw his arms around the pregnant woman, hugging warmly but carefully. She hugged him back, clutching him rather tightly. When he felt the weight of her tears on his neck and cheek, he said nothing – he would not embarrass her like that.

The two of them broke apart, exclaiming in shock, when an ice cold ball of snow collided with their closely touching heads. They looked up to see Remus standing there, grinning like an idiot, a snowball in his other hand, which he then hurled at them. Tonks' hair flushed a violent red, while her face started inching towards purple. "I'll get him back for it," Harry promised solemnly a moment before the second snowball hit him in the face, effectively silencing him and stuffing his mouth.

Harry spat snow out, face contorting, green eyes promising revenge. He scooped up a fistful of snow, patting it into a ball gently as he stalked forward. "You'll never hit me, midget," Remus said, sticking his tongue out at him before laughing heartily. "Your aim is appalling!" He stopped laughing when a snowball collided with his face, knocking the triumphant expression right off it. Harry smirked, scooping up some more snow. Then, Remus ran and thus began the first snowball fight of the season at Snowdonia. Laughs and exclamations of glee echoed through the forest, as more and more Werewolves started joining in once their testing was over.

Close to the end of it even Severus had joined in, though the man made no effort to hide the fact that he was cheating, using magic to guide snowballs to their targets. Harry eventually got him back though, grinning like a dope, even as the man began manoeuvring him to stand beneath a tree, pinned against the bark. Severus leaned down, capturing the young man's mouth in an ardent kiss, stealing the breath from him almost instantly. Harry's eyes closed as he gripped the man's clothes, tugging him even closer.

The growing heat in his pants was vanquished, however, when snow was smushed into the side of his head, getting into his hair, his ear and down inside his clothes. Harry squeaked, wriggling, trying to get the snow out as Severus walked away, smirking victoriously. Before the man had gotten too far away, though, Harry's face lit up with mischief. Muttering a Silencing Charm on his feet, Harry lunged forward, tackling Severus, bringing them both to the ground. The pair of them tumbled down a hill, gripping each other and making undignified noises as snow found its way inside their clothes.

Harry ended up sprawling on top of Severus, his thigh pressing between the man's legs, nudging the man's groin and the growing hardness there. Harry swallowed, looking down at Severus, his cheeks filling with heat that could have melted an iceberg. In moments Harry was kissing his lover, Severus' hand disappearing into his raven locks, tugging him down closer. The Werewolves were too busy having a snowball fight to notice the fact that Harry was snogging the man's face off in the snow, not even noticing the cool touch of it as heat filled their bodies...

To Be Continued.

^_^ I had to add that moment in there! It's so beautiful, don't you think!

Hope you enjoyed guys, and WOW shocker with Tonks! I know right! How they met is written, but it will not be attached to this story. In a while, you may find it on my profile. I will post it separately. ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Four

Author Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and alerts, you guys. You're all awesome. ^_^ This chapter takes place a few days after the last one, on Christmas morning. House-Elf dialogue contains deliberate mistakes.

Chapter Four

As the soft light of Christmas morning crept across the master bedroom of the cottage, Harry could be found snuggling into the pale, muscled expanse of Severus' torso, arms loosely hooked around the man's shoulder blades. The older Wizard, whose wrinkles had lessened in his slumber, had his arms wrapped around Harry, one hand resting possessively against the small of his back. Severus' face was half-buried into the messy locks of Harry's hair and with every inhalation, several strands with tickle the end of his nose.

The blankets were pulled up to Harry's chin and Severus's shoulder, to keep away the dawning chill that could not be prevented by the fading embers glowing in the fireplace. The piano on the other side of the room was silent, the lid hiding the keys from view. Music manuscripts rested on the stand, looking rather unobtrusive, though Severus' elegant writing was littering the parchment in places, pointing to such and such a note or such and such a bar. Harry had not seen them the previous night; he had been far too busy having his skin devoured by a hungry Potions Master.

So, snuggling up with the Professor in his slumber as he was, Harry Potter was a very happy young man indeed. The softest of smiles graced his mouth and his face glowed with love, even as he slept. But the moment of contentment was interrupted when a squeaky voice said, "Master Harry Potter, sir," while reaching up to lightly poke the young Wizard's arm. "Master Harry Potter, sir, there is being someone coming through the floo network! A whole bunch of red-headed someoneses, Master Harry Potter, sir!"

Harry woke from his slumber slowly, his mind foggy as he turned his head, peering out blearily over the edge of the blankets. "Wuzzat?" Harry asked, blinking owlishly at Kreacher, who was now harshly tugging on his own ear. The elderly House-Elf repeated everything that he had just said and Harry forced himself to pay attention. Everything Kreacher had said slowly began to make sense in the fog-riddled mind of slumber and when it did his eyes went as round as snitches in a matter of seconds. "Oh, shit!" Harry said, yanking himself away from Severus' body, scrambling to get out of bed.

But, their legs still tangled up together, with the added dilemma of blankets, Harry fell flat on his face, a loud crunch resonating in the air as his nose broke on the floor, before his forehead collided with the wood. "Ow!" Harry growled, vivid emerald eyes going cross-eyed with the pain, barely able to lift his head as blood pumped out of his nose, staining the floor. Harry's sudden movement away from Severus caused the older Wizard to start awake, whipping his wand out from under the pillow, pointing at an enemy that did not exist.

If Harry had seen that action, he might have laughed. Fear of an attack was the only thing in the world with the power to have Severus capable of cognisant thought upon waking. Otherwise, he would need a few cups of steaming hot coffee, followed by a nice cup of Earl Grey. Severus' head popped out over the side of the bed, raising a brow as he lowered his wand. "What are you doing on the floor?" Though the man certainly did not look it, there was the slightest tinge of concern in his voice. This warmed Harry's heart.

"Suffering," Harry groused, resting shaking hands against the floor in an effort to push himself up from the floor. But as soon as he lifted his head his vision swam and a wave of dizziness came over him, forcing him to rest his head back down, whimpering softly as he did so. "I just broke my nose and cracked my head off the floor. I think I've concussed myself; my head's swimming." His words, of course, came out rather garbled due to the amount of blood in his nose and mouth, but Severus understood him easily enough.

Severus slipped out of bed, comfortable enough to walk around nude in Harry's presence, and knelt beside the young man, casually avoiding the puddle of blood growing around Harry's head. "Come on," the man said, reaching for him. Again the dizziness and swimming sensations came, but Severus aided him up into a rather unattractive kneeling position – well, it would have been attractive if it was not for the blood dribbling down his neck from his face. "_Episkey_," the man muttered, aiming his wand at Harry's nose.

Warmth spread through Harry's nose and there came a second sharp crack as his nose realigned and healed instantaneously. Then Severus cleaned his face with a charm designed to vanish blood and had a look at Harry's head, humming in discontent, before summoning two potions – a vial of salve for his bruises and a potion for his concussion. Severus applied the salve while Harry downed the potion and then Severus flicked his gaze around Harry's face, fingertips lingering near Harry's ointment-slathered forehead. "What?" Harry muttered, ducking his gaze.

The corner of Severus' mouth quirked upwards. "Nothing," Severus replied and then Harry's hair was graced with a brief brush of lips. "Now, what had you in such a hurry to escape my clutches that you injured that empty head of yours?"

"There is being red-headed visitors coming through the floo!" Kreacher reiterated for the third time, almost jumping on the spot in his efforts to get his masters dressed and down into the living room. A string of curses fell from Severus' barbed tongue as he realized a parcel of Weasleys were invading his...home at such an ungodly hour. The two of them dressed quickly, not even bothering to jump into the shower this morning – there was only one bathroom and it would have been horribly awkward if a ginger were to walk in on them.

When they were both fully dressed and groomed, the two of them descended the stairs, with Harry in the lead – because Merlin knew that Harry was the only one who actually wanted to have the Weasleys around. A cacophony of voices shouted, "Harry!" in happiness and excitement as Harry and Severus stepped into the living room, which Kreacher had magically enlarged to fit everyone comfortably. Harry was attacked by a girl with bushy brown hair instantly, the force of it almost knocking him backwards into Severus' torso.

Harry wrapped his arms tightly around his best friend, hugging her for all she was worth. "Hey, 'Mione! I missed you, too," he said, laughing into her hair while trying to keep the ointment away from the bushy locks.

Hermione pulled back and beamed at him, brown eyes warm with sisterly love, before she noticed the ointment on his head. "What have you done to yourself, now?" she asked worriedly, her brow furrowing as she looked at him shrewdly.

"Oh, you know me," Harry said, rolling his eyes, to cover up the fact that if he told the truth it would be embarrassing, "mentally duelling Voldemort every other day takes its toll." He and Hermione laughed, which, he supposed, was a good thing. It would have been a lot more awkward if she had started to cry in front of everybody. When she stepped more fully away from him, Ron took her place, giving a brief manly embrace, clapping Harry on the shoulder. Soon he was spreading his brotherly love to all of the Weasleys that had showed up – including the blonde Weasley-to-be who graced his cheek with a warm kiss.

When the Weasleys caught Severus before he could slink out of the room, Harry could not help but grin. They were doing their best to make Severus feel like he was a member of their large family. It was really quite endearing, but it was also quite humorous as Severus had his wand in hand the moment Fleur leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek, which sparked off a round of laughter amongst the Weasley boys. The man arched a brow and his lip curled slightly when Mrs Weasley stated he was far too thin for her liking and was clearly not eating enough, earning a loud guffaw from Harry. "Trust me, Mrs Weasley, Sev eats plenty," Harry offered.

"Call me Molly, dear," Mrs Weasley said, smiling adoringly at him. "With a future Mrs Weasley on the way, things will just get too confusing."

"Alright, Molly," Harry said, grinning at her as he tested the word out. At the moment it was rather strange to address her like that, but he had no doubt that it would get easier in time. That was when Harry noticed the presence of his cousin, Dudley, hovering some distance behind the Weasleys, as if he was afraid to be seen. But Harry did remember that Ginny said he was staying with them for the Christmas holidays. "Dudley," he said, smiling somewhat awkwardly as he made his way over to his cousin.

"Harry," Dudley replied, seemingly just as awkward as Harry felt. Harry came to a stop in front of him, hesitated for a moment, before holding out his hand in an offer of friendship – quite similar to what Draco had done before his first year at Hogwarts. Another moment passed and Dudley accepted the hand and all that would eventually come with it. Then, surprising everyone in the room – especially Severus – Harry hugged the larger boy. It was brief and awkward, but the intention was clear; he was willing to let bygones be bygones if Dudley was willing to do the same.

"My boys," Ginny said, with a tell-tale sniffle, and then she ploughed right into them, hugging them both simultaneously. She kissed both of their cheeks, causing the pair of them to blush, and then discreetly wiped her cheek, hiding evidence of tears, which Harry found really funny as it was usually Hermione who did stuff like that. "Come sit with me, Dudley!" she said, smiling broadly at the boy as she took his hand in hers, dragging him towards the sofa, which had been enlarged by Kreacher upon their arrival. Harry had to hide a smile; the poor boy did not stand a chance of arguing with a Weasley.

Severus and Mr Weasley had moved themselves to a quiet part of the room, conferring softly with each other. Harry did not feel the need to join them and instead sat with Ron, Hermione and the twins. They were chatting quietly and could hear Molly pottering around in the kitchen, making the breakfast – she had slinked away almost immediately upon arrival, to make Harry breakfast, knowing he has just woken up. Roughly twenty minutes after the Weasleys arrived the floo flared a second time that morning. Godric and Draco stepped out of the fireplace together, the older man's arm wrapped around Draco's waist, almost possessively.

Ron's remaining eye twitched slightly at the sight of their familiarity, but Harry knew he was way better at seeing past his prejudices. Draco on his own was no problem for Ron now; it was the relationship between him and Godric Gryffindor that irked him, but only slightly. The floo flared again behind them and out stepped Lady Ravenclaw and Lady Hufflepuff, followed by Professor Slytherin, whose eyes flicked about the living room. Harry found himself waiting for a snide comment...but it did not come.

Instead, Slytherin smirked at him, winking. The action was hidden from the others when Mrs Weasley burst into the living room, bearing a tray of breakfast foods, but Harry saw it and it made him frown. _Why did he wink at me?_ "Breakfast is ready," Mrs Weasley said, beaming. "We've eaten already but Harry, do take your fill! And you, too, Severus!" Severus, actually being hungry, did take a look at what had been prepared – and took the least greasy option for himself, which was a bowl of fresh porridge.

And Harry had the rest, which was quite a decent breakfast. He had not realized just how hungry he was until he started eating, but once he did he came to the conclusion that he was famished. If Harry did not know any better, he would have assumed Mrs Weasley was trying to make him fat. He was almost finished breakfast when the Moretti Pack arrived – with Tonks – appearing outside with a loud crack. Tonks could not floo in her condition, but side-along apparition was manageable for the next two or three months.

Tonks burst into the living room, her hair a bright bubblegum pink, her protruding belly preceding her into the room. "Wotcher!" she exclaimed happily, hugging a warm fleece around herself. As soon as the women in the room saw her, pregnant belly and all, there was an explosion of feminine excitement as the women flocked over to her – Hermione included! Andrew hovered near Tonks constantly, ready to step in if Tonks felt the least bit claustrophobic while being the centre of attention.

Moments later more and more people were arriving; Crystal and her parents, the Longbottoms, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrasse, Lavender Brown, the Lovegoods, August and his brother Bradley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Hagrid and a bunch of other order members. It was turning into a real party gathering! It looked like Harry really would get his Order photograph this Christmas and the thought made Harry grin happily as he welcomed all of his extended family to the cottage – even Dumbledore, though they were not on the best of terms at the moment, but Harry treated him cordially enough.

The day went extraordinarily well, in Harry's opinion. At around lunch time, Mrs Weasley, Fleur, Severus and himself disappeared into the kitchen and began preparing Christmas dinner with Kreacher's aid. Even with the four of them, the amount of stress involved in feeding so many was astronomical, but Harry did not regret it and though Severus groused under his breath several times, he knew Severus did not really mind it either. That was because it made Harry happy, and anything that made Harry happy the man was willing to do, even if he complained a little along the way.

Dinner was not ready until approximately six in the evening, at which time Mrs Weasley hollered for them all to come in and sit down. The room and table enlarged and Kreacher drew up several more chairs for the guests. Dinner went swimmingly; there was laughter and smiles and happy conversation and for a time the darkness of the world outside the cottage was completely forgotten. Inside that cottage there was no such thing as Voldemort or Death Eaters or fear; just cherished moments of joy.

After dinner, before dessert was served, Godric and Draco disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a bowl of ice cream, tinted slightly blue. "Ooh, a new flavour of ice cream!" Harry exclaimed, snagging a spoonful and shoving it into his mouth before Draco could tug the bowl away from him. He always did have much faster reflexes than the blonde. Godric and Draco looked at each other, sharing a rather distressed expression and Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco, grinning victoriously – Draco was not the kind of man who was willing to share anything, even something as simple as ice cream and so Harry felt a huge sense of achievement.

"Harry, I need to talk to you," Draco said tightly. "Right now."

"Draco, relax; we can talk after! I'll even make up for stealing a spoon of your ice cream, but for now let's just enjoy the day okay?"

The Slytherin student gave him a shrewd look, narrowing his eyes slightly as he contemplated. "Alright," Draco answered quietly, "but I want you to promise you'll come and talk to me later." Harry nodded, waving the platinum blonde away. Honestly, the boy took things far too seriously for Harry's sake; after all, it was only a spoon of ice cream!

The moment of tension with Draco quickly forgotten, Harry enjoyed his dessert along with everybody else seated at the dinner table. When the meal was finished, it was finally time for exchanging gifts. Everyone let him open his gifts first, though he had wanted to watch others open their gifts before he had opened his own, but he quickly got over it as Remus handed him the first gift of the evening with a soft smile. Harry looked down at the tiny package, wondering what it could possibly be.

With great care Harry undid the wrapping, revealing a small vial with a seal. Inside the vial was the tell-tale silvery substance of a memory. "Do you mind if I...?" Harry asked, his voice trailing off as it started to tremble. Remus shook his head and Harry smiled at him, summoning his pensieve from his room. Setting the pensieve on the dinner table, Harry removed the seal from the vial and poured the silvery memory into the pensieve, where it swirled prettily for a moment or two. Harry leaned forward and pressed his face to the memory. The world tilted and he fell into the memory, tumbling down through the ceiling of a living room that sent a pang through his heart.

_Sirius and Remus tumbled out of the fireplace of the Potter residence, bearing gifts wrapped in red and gold wrapping paper. James looked up from his Daily Prophet. James abandoned his newspaper, and loped towards his friends, gathering them into a tight hug. "Thank Merlin, you're here! I'm going spare!" James said happily, practically squeezing them to death._

"_We didn't come to rescue you, James," Remus said._

"_Yeah...There's my little pup!" Sirius said enthusiastically and scooped baby Harry up in to his arms, cradling him close. "Happy Birthday!" Sirius said as little Harry's hands wrapped around the shaft of Sirius' gift._

"_Oh, Sirius," Lily exclaimed, coming in from the kitchen. "You didn't!"_

"_I did!"_

"_I told you not to!" Lily whined._

"_James was the one who picked out the model in the catalogue!" Sirius answered blithely, before slapping his hand over his mouth. Harry, of course, was oblivious to the scene as he managed to rip the wrapping paper off his new broomstick._

"_Sirius!" James exclaimed in shock, glaring at Sirius who had just blabbed on him._

"_James!" Lily yelled angrily._

"_Harry!" Remus declared, pointing at the one-year-old who had just shot out of Sirius' arms astride the broom. Lily lunged for their bundle of joy and missed by a hair's breadth. James gave chase as Harry whizzed around the living room. The vase from Petunia shattered as James accidently knocked it off the table. Harry flew out in to the hall. A burst of accidental magic opened the front door, giving Harry access to the outside world. The others joined James in the chase. Outside, Bathilda Bagshot, who had been taking a picture of a Jarvey, spotted James chasing the broomstick-riding-baby and quickly took a photo of the incident. Click!_

_Surprised as the flash flared brightly in front of him, Harry let go of the broom. James threw himself forward, catching Harry before the tyke hit the ground_...

To Be Continued.

There! I thought I'd end this chapter on a happy-sweet memory. It made me sniffle when writing it. ^_^ I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Five

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Glad you enjoyed the last chapter. On with the show! No phrases publically recognisable belong to me; I'm just borrowing them; don't sue me...

Chapter Five

Harry stood up and threw his arms around Remus – who had risen in the same moment – as soon as the pensieve spat him back out into the kitchen of their cottage. He buried his face in the man's chest as Remus hugged him close, resting his chin atop Harry's head. "Knew you would appreciate it," Remus said quietly, ruffling Harry's hair slightly with one gentle hand. A soft sniffle was the man's only answer, which elicited a soft chuckle from Remus. Remus drew back and tipped Harry's head up with the pressure of one finger under Harry's chin, looking down into Harry's face with a light smile. "They'd be so proud of you, if they could be with you now."

"Maybe Mum would be," Harry said quietly, pulling his head away from Remus' hand, "but I really don't think Dad and Sirius would be too happy with the way things are right now. They're probably rolling in their graves, right now, hating me..." Harry's voice dropped to a level only the Werewolf would hear, to prevent Severus from hearing, "...and him...especially him." Harry looked down at his shoes, shuffling awkwardly on the spot as he wrung his left hand with his right, tightly, almost cutting off the circulation.

"I will admit neither Sirius nor James were very fond of Severus," Remus said quietly, causing Harry to look at him in a manner that clearly said; _are you fucking kidding me? _"But Harry Sirius died two years ago and James sixteen years ago; they've had plenty of time to observe how your relationship with Severus grew. They might not be happy that the two of you are together, but even they will be able to see how happy Severus makes you and how well he treats you. Their feelings for Severus are irrelevant when taking yours into an account. Don't worry about it."

Remus drew him into another hug, briefly, and sat back down. Harry did the same and banished his pensieve and the new memory to his bedroom. Donatello insisted on giving Harry his gift next and the knowledge of the boy even getting a gift for him left him feeling warm and fuzzy inside. "It isn't much..." Donatello said, looking down at his hands once he had hand over the small parcel. Harry gave him a smile and unwrapped the gift, his breath sucking inwards almost instantly.

To a snob like Lucius Malfoy the gift might have been worthless, but to Harry it meant so much. It was a tiny piece of wood, hand-carved into a crescent moon, with a tiny loop, which allowed a black chord to be threaded through. Harry picked it up, smiling at it, and put the pendant on. He grabbed a hold of Donatello and pulled him onto his lap, telling him how much he loved it as he gave the boy a tight, warm hug. Donatello hugged Harry back, grinning broadly, pleased that Harry had truly liked his gift.

The rest of the gifts were also nice, though he was not sure what he would do with some of them. From Ron he received an unlabelled Potions' vial, which caused Severus to have a conniption at the other end of the table, but no one would answer him when Harry asked what it was. Instead people turned various shades of red and looked away awkwardly, causing Harry to glower at the potion suspiciously. From Hermione he received a thick book, entitled; _Romancing the Wizard: An anthology of poetry for men, written by men_. Harry looked down at it and then down the length of the table at Severus, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

The man rolled his eyes and muttered something indecipherable, before taking a swig of Firewhiskey. A laugh filtered down the length of the table in response. From Fred and George Harry received a box of their new line of fireworks, which caused the pair of them to wink at him, nudging each other. Harry just _knew_ it would be something to embarrass Severus with. From Charlie Harry received a miniature Norwegian Ridgeback, which glared up at him and then set fire to the wrapping paper. "Don't worry," the red-head said when Harry gave him a worried expression, "he only eats things like crickets and cockroaches."

Harry set the mini-Dragon on the table and it began exploring, moving down the table, sniffing at people in a curious, non-threatening fashion. From Bill and Fleur Harry received a camera that could take Wizarding photos instantaneously, because it came with the potion inside it, which could be refilled at an apothecary. Harry smiled down at it and looked at Bill and Fleur. "Thank you so much! This is exactly what I wanted! When all the present-giving is done, I want everyone in for a photo!" Harry said, beaming around at everybody.

Severus groaned at the other end of the table, burying his face in his hand, his elbow resting on the table. "Do you know what you've done, William Weasley? You've created a trigger-happy monster!" The table erupted in laughter and Harry stuck his tongue out at his lover.

"You love it; I know," Harry said cheekily before moving onto the next gift. From Mr and Mrs Weasley he got the usual basket of home-made chocolate cakes and another Weasley jumper. Maroon with a gold H. Immediately Harry pulled the jumper on over his head, hugging the fabric to him. He loved all of his Weasley jumps and was always saddened when he outgrew them, but he really did not think he was going to get any bigger after this year. If he was going to get a growth spurt, it would have happened already.

From Godric he received a goblin-made sword, inscribed with the words _The Potter Family_. The pommel had a large emerald embedded in it. "I had it made with your family name, so that should you have any descendants in the future, the Goblins can't claim they stole it from them. It is permanently the property of anyone descended from your blood."

Harry looked at him like he was mad. "I'm gay," Harry said without hesitation.

Godric waved the admission away as he glanced in Severus' direction. "This is the Wizarding World, Harry; anything's possible these days. Anyway, you have one of the most accomplished Potions Masters in the world as a lover; I really don't think you'll be missing out on children in the future, Harry. We all know Severus spends nearly all of his time being civil in order to make you happy; otherwise, he would have cursed us all into oblivion by now. I wouldn't be surprised if he went to even greater lengths, for your benefit – just saying," the man concluded. Severus glared at Godric, while Draco started going red in the face, heading steadily towards the colour puce.

Harry eyed Godric and Draco with some suspicion, but he looked at Severus with such a vast level of barely concealed hope that it made Tonks, who was sitting nearby, get teary-eyed. Severus gave the woman a withering glare, but Tonks just smiled at him, face glowing. "You will be the death of me, Harry," Severus groused, taking a long swallow from his goblet of Firewhiskey – which was supposed to last him the entire evening. Harry wondered whether it would, since the number of gifts he was receiving that made Severus uncomfortable was unprecedented.

Harry moved onto the next gift. From Draco he received a puppy, which poked his head out of the box he was in quite eagerly, ears pointing towards the ceiling, tongue lolling out of his mouth. It looked quite young, maybe 6 weeks old, but possibly older. It had bright blue eyes and thick black and white fur. "What kind of dog is this?" Harry wondered aloud, noting the similarities between it and wolves. "And why do people giving me pets? Do I wear a sign on my forehead, saying '_I need pets because people don't love me enough_'?" Harry laughed awkwardly as the words tumbled out of his mouth, but it diffused all form of tension that had begun to fester in the room.

"No," Draco said, his tone clearly indicating that he thought Harry was an utter idiot. "I got you this puppy because if you treat him right, he will love you forever. He will be one of the most loyal friends you will have, who won't care if you're gay or straight, good or evil, so long as you love him. He'll never think bad things about you, in front of you or behind your back. I, personally, think everyone needs some form of dog as a friend. He's a cross between a German Shepherd and a Siberian Husky. Strong and powerful and intelligent; exactly the sort of pet you need, because you certainly don't have any brains, Scar-head!"

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed in mock outrage. Draco stuck his tongue out at Harry in a highly undignified fashion, but in that moment it hardly mattered. What mattered was that they considered each other family and they were willing to do anything and everything to help each other – even get a good dog for the other, while handing out a barb simultaneously.

"He's also got some magic blood in him," Draco continued, "which means you only need to show him what to do once and he will pick it up immediately – that should come in handy when you're house-training him!" Everyone at the table laughed, except Severus who usually never found anything funny in a public setting, but Harry knew to expect that by now so it hardly bothered him. Harry smiled at Draco and thanked him for his gift as he lifted the puppy out of the box, enfolding the adorable little thing in his arms, grinning like an idiot when he started licking Harry's face.

"You don't really look like him," Harry said, speaking down towards the puppy, which tilted its head in confusion as it looked up at him, "but I'm going to name you Padfoot after him anyway. He'd like that, I think." And that, as they say, was that. The puppy never really left Harry's lap after that, contenting itself to just watching the interactions between everyone at the table, yipping excitedly whenever Harry laughed. Some of the gifts Harry received would come in handy at some point, Harry felt, but others were given just for the sake of humour.

When Harry finished unwrapping his gifts, Luna came up to him, leaning into whisper in his ear about the gift she wanted to give her father, which would require his help. Harry readily agreed and so did Draco, Theodore and Daphne when Luna asked them in turn. The four of them slunk off with Luna, moving into a different room while the others continued to open gifts from each other. Harry left Padfoot in Remus' company, knowing he would take good care of him while he was gone. For an hour the five of them were locked away in the living room, learning lyrics and melodies studiously, though Daphne had the longest set of lyrics out of all of them.

When they were ready, wearing their glamours and everything, Harry and the others waited outside the kitchen door, wands at the ready, while Luna slipped into the kitchen, speaking to everyone in the room. "Dad, you always said you wanted Hogwarts to bring back the pantomimes about _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_, but they haven't. So, I thought giving you a performance for Christmas, with the help of some others. So, here it is; a performance of your favourite tale." Luna cleared her throat and in that dreamy way of hers, she said, "There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at Twilight..." Of to the side, some instruments popped into existence, a flute and piano amongst them, which began playing beautiful music immediately.

Daphne, Harry, Draco and Theodore filed into the kitchen, then, acting out the scenes with the aid of magic as they sang.

[Death-Daphne]

_I once happened across fair brothers three_

_Who thought they could use all their magic to thwart me_

_But I, being death, being sly, blocked their path_

_And said "brave, cunning brothers, oh, what do you ask?_

_I will give each a prize and then let brothers pass."_

_The first brother begged_

[Antioch-Draco]

_Please, Death, make me a tool_

_A wand that will win every fight, every duel._

[Death-Daphne]

_So I broke a branch off of an Elder tree_

_And I fashioned a wand for he thought he was worthy_

_And gave Elder wand to the eldest of three._

_Go, brother, I bid thee goodnight_

_I promise you'll win all your battles and fights_

_But your wand will be stolen and you will be slain_

_Then you and I will meet again._

_The next brother cried_

[Cadmus-Theodore]

_Give me magic instead_

_The power to bring others back from the dead._

[Death-Daphne]

_So I picked up a stone from the riverside_

_And I told him the pebble had magic inside_

_It would bring back the dead and his departed bride._

_Go, brother, I bid thee goodnight_

_You'll see your love soon but things will not be right_

_You'll drive yourself crazy for she won't be whole_

_And then I will claim your soul._

_The youngest brother said_

[Ignotus-Harry]

_Death, I don't trust your ways_

_Please leave me alone 'til the end of my days._

[Death-Daphne]

_And though I was reluctant, he was the wisest of the three_

_So I gave him my cloak of invisibility_

_And I let the young brother go free._

_Go, brother, I bid thee goodnight_

_Go take your new cloak and go live out your life_

_Be happy and healthy and when you are ready_

_You can take off your cloak and join me._

_And that is the story of the Peverell brothers_

_They each made their choice, one wiser than others_

_They stripped me of wand and of cloak and of stone_

_And I bade young Ignotus be selfless and roam_

_And many years passed 'til he called me his home_

_But I took the other two for my own. _

"He then greeted death as an old friend," Luna said as Ignotus-Harry gave his Invisibility Cloak to a conjured son, "and went with him gladly, departing this life as equals." Death-Daphne, looking remarkably like a fusion of a Dementor and Voldemort, wrapped her arms around Ignotus-Harry and the pair of them, with the aid of magic, sank down into the ground as if were made of mostly water. Harry and Daphne reappeared from out of the ground just outside the kitchen door.

They walked back into the kitchen and the four of them bowed together, grinning like idiots as almost everyone at the table burst into applause. "Thank you, Luna!" Xenophilius Lovegood said, beaming at his daughter as he pulled her into an almost crushing hug, which she returned just as tightly. "That was the best present I've received in a long time!" The only people who were not clapping were Remus and Hermione, who both narrowed their eyes shrewdly, clearly deep in thought, and Severus, who was paler than usual, gripping the table with his hands, so tightly his fingernails were scraping the wood and his knuckles had gone pure white.

Harry looked at Severus worriedly as the man left the table with rather jerky bodily movements, quickly following after him when he left the room abruptly. "Severus," Harry called out, dashing into the living room after him before the man could close the door on his face, "are you alright?"

"Of course not," Severus snapped, shutting the door once Harry had found his way inside. "Why would you think that I was? I just watched you die!" The man began pacing, hardly looking in Harry's direction.

"Technically that was Ignotus Peverell."

"You didn't look very much different. So, your jaw was a little sharper and your eyes were brown – you were still virtually the same person. I can't believe you had me watch something like that!"

"You could have looked away," Harry pointed out, moving forward take hold of Severus' arm, stopping him midstride. "And I'm sorry if it...caused you discomfort." Harry was not foolish enough to use the word _upset_, because Severus was never upset. Never. "If it will make you feel better, I'd be more than happy to kiss it better," Harry said, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards as Severus let out a bark of laughter in response. Severus turned towards him, stalking forwards as Harry moved backwards.

Soon Severus had him pressed against the surface of the living room door, pressing against him in all the right places. Harry slid his arms up around the man's neck as Severus kissed him, slow, deep and intense, one forearm resting against the door. Harry's heart pounded in his chest, his lungs constricting, as he kissed Severus for all he was worth, moaning quietly. Out of all the great many things Severus was exceedingly talented at, kissing was quite close to the top of the list. One of Severus' hands slid down Harry's side, touch firm but gentle.

Harry pulled away when he became too short of breath, his eyes drifting open slowly as a smile spread across his reddened lips. "We should stop this," Harry whispered against Severus' mouth, captivated by Severus' obsidian gaze, "before we do something that might make me moan too loudly and draw attention to us..."

Severus snorted in amusement. "I, unlike you, am a fully grown man and quite capable of reigning myself in when I need to."

"Hey," Harry groused, before a teasing smile stretched across his mouth, "I'm fully grown, too – I never hear you complaining when I'm in hot and hard in your hand." His comment resulted in yet another heated kiss, one of his hands sliding down to grip the fabric of Severus' robes, tightly, as one leg rose to wrap around Severus' waist, quickly followed by the other as the man pressed him more firmly against the door, heaving him upwards slightly. "Speaking of hands, by the way," Harry said, breaking away after several long minutes of moaning and sighing and writhing lightly against the older man, "did you get your hands on your present from me yet?"

Severus laughed against the side of his neck, clearly surprised the boy was still capable of cognisant thought. "I did, indeed, you little brat. Where did you get it?"

"I'll never tell," Harry said, grinning wickedly when Severus pulled back slightly to glare sharply at him.

"That thing must have been worth a small fortune; how dare you spend so much on my gift!"

"It was worth every knut," Harry said rather breathlessly, beaming down at the love of his life...

To Be Continued.

The song used in this chapter was written by the Butterbeer Experience and is one of my favourite songs.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Please, review, it only takes a moment. ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Six

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews and alerts you guys; I really appreciate it. I read every comment that comes my way, even if I can't find the time to answer some of them, or if some I can't respond to because of settings of reviewers and stuff. ^_^ **SO, I SET UP A LIVE JOURNAL ACCOUNT** in case this site tries to boot my stories out of its archive. On Live Journal I am **god_of_wood** if any readers would like to send friend request or whatever, if they're members on there, too. I'm still getting used to the site – at the moment I find it really confusing, lol, but I'm sure I'll get the hang of it eventually. I was asked if I had an account there ages ago, since Live Journal has such a large Snarry community – well, I do now, though I'm trying to find communities and stuff and am getting lost. But enough about me and my struggles, on with the show!

Chapter Six

When Harry and Severus returned to the kitchen, it was to find the others giving them knowing looks or winks – save for McGonagall who gave them a blank expression. Harry figured that was an improvement as she usually graced them with a severely disapproving look. Severus and Harry returned to their seats, which unfortunately were located at opposite ends of the table. Their eyes met each other across the distance and Severus' obsidian gaze burned into his, searing his flesh as his gaze flicked downwards every now and again.

Harry had to suppress a shiver. The things those eyes could do to him, without even trying, was positively sinful. He could almost feel the man's hands sliding across his skin, fingers making him feel things no one else ever had. Harry's cheeks flushed a soft red and he forced himself to look down at the table in front of him, eyes going slightly unfocused as he concentrated on not running down the length of the table to jump his lover. He would save that for later, because he certainly did plan to divest the man of all those clothes.

He was going to push Severus down onto the bed upstairs and straddle him. He would make the man as hot and as bothered as he possibly could. He would lick the sweat from Severus' skin, tasting every available inch of him, as hungrily as if he was a starving man. In that moment Harry felt he was on the top of the world, that he could try new things and enjoy them. He felt that maybe it was time...time to try to go further with Severus...just a little further...to see what the man could help him feel.

Harry knew, without a doubt, that Severus would do his best to make him feel wonderful when Harry finally did manage to be able to go all the way with him. But it did not stop Harry from being rather nervous about it all. The man was well-endowed and it really seemed impossible that something that size could _fit inside of him_. Harry knew there was room for stretching, but he thought it ridiculous that he could stretch around someone that large. He supposed he would find out for certain...at some point. The thought caused him to swallow thickly, his cheeks filling with a violently red blush.

To try and save face, Harry opted for a shot of Firewhiskey. The mouthful of fire was welcome as it scorched its way down his throat. Harry shook his head slightly as a puff of smoke escaped him on a belch, which he covered with his hand. "Excuse me," he said as Remus chuckled, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately.

The hours flew by as much merriment was had by all at the table. Dumbledore and McGonagall were tipsy enough to be giggling away together in the corner. Remus ended up with his head resting on Dalmazio's shoulder, quite unable to stop laughing, his face getting redder by the second. Donatello, Crystal and August were giddy with sugar rushes from all the delicious chocolate desserts, chasing each other around the kitchen and laughing room, laughing in excitement and happiness.

But almost all of the adults, save for some of the more staid Werewolves and elder wizards and Tonks who could not have alcohol due to her condition, had indulged in the alcoholic beverages supplied that day. Harry was merry enough that a rosy hue was glowing in his cheeks, almost like Christmas lights were glowing from beneath his skin. "Everybody!" Harry said, getting to his feet, stumbling a little when his foot caught on the leg of his chair. He glowered down at the thing menacingly, before grinning around at everyone. He held up the camera excitedly. "Time for pictures!"

The table erupted in happy cheers, except for Severus who was not as inebriated as the other adults. Severus let out a sigh of frustration, rising from his chair like a bat out of hell. Harry grinned cheekily at the man, thrusting the camera out of reach when Severus strode forward in order to take the camera away from him. "Nuh-uh," Harry said, shifting the camera around as Severus tried to grab it from him. "You're not the boss of this camera; I am." Severus smirked and tried to win possession of the camera by distracting Harry with a kiss, but Harry was too quick.

Harry swatted the man's torso, turning his face away to avoid having his mouth captured. Trying to help Harry, Alice snagged the camera and dashed away, laughing giddily as Severus began cursing her profusely for her cheek. "Give me the camera right now, Alice," Severus said, striding purposefully in pursuit of her. Before he could catch her, however, she had tossed the camera to Bill Weasley, who laughed and tossed it to back to Harry, who grinned winningly, waving the camera around in the air.

"Everybody in for a photo," he said exuberantly. Most people were quite willing to get into position, levitating the table back a bit to make room for everybody to stand in for it. The Werewolves stood all together, Dalmazio hoisting Donatello into his arms, cuddling him close for the photo, holding him aloft with one arm, while he tugged Remus close to his side with his other arm. Remus, by this time, had calmed down somewhat, but one could tell he had spent some time laughing.

The Dales and Prewitts stood beside the Morettis, smiling calmly. August and Crystal were out in front, arms thrown around each other's shoulders, grinning from ear to ear, their hair slightly messed from their running around with Donatello. The Weasleys, Longbottoms, Lovegoods, Daphne, Hermione, Theodore and Lavender packed themselves in next to the others. The Founders, Draco, and Order members filed in then. Harry dragged Severus into position near the front and centre, his soft smile of promise a rather prominent contribution to his victory over the austere man.

_One big happy family_, Harry thought, looking around at them all, feeling his heart clench, almost painfully, at the sight of everyone he loved being in the same room together, getting ready to get their photo taken. _Well, except Aberforth and Severus – they don't look too comfortable from where I'm standing._ Padfoot came dashing around the large group of people, finding his way – seemingly naturally – to Harry's side, seating himself down by Harry's ankle. Padfoot looked...contented sitting there, his pointy ears trying to reach for the ceiling, his mouth open, tongue lolling out happily.

The miniature Norwegian Ridgeback, which Harry automatically dubbed Norbert in memory of the Dragon hatchling from his first year at Hogwarts, was settling himself upon Severus' and Harry's linked arms, making himself comfortable there. Hedwig and Thrasos, who had both been upstairs, seemed to have sensed something was happening and had come down stairs, gliding into the kitchen. Hedwig landed on Harry's head, talons gripping firmly but gently, careful not to cut him. Thrasos settled with similar ease on Severus shoulder, the furthest from Harry, nuzzling the side of the man's head gently. Thrasos had been fond of the man since he had hatched from his silver-speckled black egg in the grate of the cottage.

Bill flicked his wrist and the camera jerked out of Harry's hands, moving some distance away. That was when Harry realized there was someone missing from the group – or rather, two someones. "Wait a second," Harry said quickly, stopping Bill from taking the picture. "Kreacher! Dobby!" The House-Elves apparated into existence with a pair of loud cracks. "Welcome to the family, you guys!" Harry said merrily, his reddened cheeks dimpling as he grinned broadly at Severus' side. "Get ready for the picture."

Just as Bill flicked his wrist for the camera to take the shot, something extremely cold touched both Harry's free hand and his shoulder. He shivered and almost turned to look for the source, but beside him Severus also shivered violently and then there was a bright flash and an explosion of purple smoke. A photograph fell from the bottom of the camera and the camera flew into Harry's hand. Harry shrank the camera, slipping it into his pocket, and dashed forward to retrieve the photograph, careful not to trip over his own feet.

He picked up the photograph, looking down at it. As soon as his gaze took note of the photograph his eyeballs threatened to fall from their sockets. A second later they were rolling up into the back of his head, his body crumpling and he was out cold before his body even had the chance to hit the floor. He did not hear the rushed steps, did not feel his collision with a muscled torso, and did not feel the warm, strong arms of his lover catching him, preventing him from being hurt in his collapse.

Sometime later that night, Harry came to, finding himself lying on the living room sofa. The room was dark, but for the crimson glow from the fireplace, the light flickering just as the flames did in the grate. Confused, Harry sat up groggily, looking for Severus and found him quickly. The man was sitting in the armchair nearest the fireplace, staring into the beauty of the flames, nursing a glass of Firewhiskey in his left hand. His eyebrows had knitted together and his forehead was deeply furrowed as he frowned. The man's lips had thinned and his eyes were glittering darkly "Severus...?" Harry began uncertainly, wondering why his lover looked so troubled and where everyone else had disappeared to.

Severus looked up, the glow from the fire dancing across his austere face, and the brooding expression vanished as the tiniest of smiles graced the man's lips as he gazed across the room at Harry. "Welcome to the land of the living," he commented dryly.

"What happened?"

"You passed out."

"No shit."

"Then why ask?" Severus queried, his tone hinting at faint annoyance.

"Because I can't remember whether what I think I'm remembering actually happened or not, or if my brain just hates me enough to start fucking up my memory on purpose."

"Imbecile."

Harry grinned, his brain no longer as fuzzy from the alcohol he had consumed earlier that night, allowing him to recognise the teasing tone to Severus' voice. "Of course." Harry rose from the couch and crossed the living room, never once taking his eyes away from Severus. The man watched him approach, but made no move to invite him onto his lap. That hardly surprised Harry, however, and quickly seated himself, straddling the man's legs. "What happened and why is everyone gone?"

"Everyone left soon after your collapse. They figured it would be best to let you rest easy for the night, all things considered. Your friends said they would stop by to see how you are tomorrow and Draco said he would be over first thing in the morning and told me to inform you that if you did anything stupid, he would kill you." Then, seeming to lose himself in his thoughts, Severus glanced into the fire once more, the troubled expression making its way back onto his face. "You really don't remember?"

"It's not that I don't remember, it's that I have serious doubts about what I remember. What I remember couldn't possibly be what I saw...right...?" There was a definite sense of anxiety in Harry's words as hit nibbled his bottom lip, carefully looking at the man he was straddling. The man gave him neither a yes nor a no. Instead, Severus reached inside his robes, withdrawing the photograph Harry had taken. In silence the man held it out to him. Wordlessly Harry accepted it, turning it around so that he could look at it more fully.

But his eyes had not deceived him. Nothing in the photograph had changed since the moment it had been taken and it left him as flabbergasted as it had the first time, though luckily he did not pass out this time. There they were, smiling out at him, looking so happy and carefree, in spite of everything that had happened, everything that was still happening as the days went continued to trickle past, heading towards the war.

Lily, looking quite transparent, was standing behind Severus and Harry, her head popping up between their own. Her arms were slung around their shoulders, as if to say; _these are my boys and I love them_. James was beside Harry, crouching, one hand wrapped around Harry's own, the other was scratching between Padfoot's ears, resulting in a contented expression as the puppy closed his eyes, fully enjoying the treatment from what Harry could see. Sirius was beside Severus, smirking wickedly as he reached up behind Severus' head, making bunny ears with his fingers.

Harry touched the photograph's surface lightly with his fingertips. Part of him was rather unable to believe what he was seeing. Surely _someone_ would have seen them if Lily, James and Sirius had been standing with them. One came back as a ghost or they moved on; it was impossible to do both in the Wizarding World, regardless of what the Muggles might think – Harry knew all of this. He had paid attention during his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes – especially the ones Severus and Remus had taught.

Eventually Harry looked up at the love of his life, forcing himself to ask the question did not really want to know the answer to. "Could there be something wrong with the potion...?"

"That would be an entirely possible cause, but not in this instance...I already checked; it is well within date and perfectly brewed."

"Charms...?"

"The photograph has not been tampered with," Severus replied calmly, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if he were almost afraid to say what he just said.

"So...this...this is real...?" Harry breathed, staring down at the photograph.

"As Holmes would say; when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." Harry swallowed thickly, his eyes stinging slightly. He blinked away the situation as Severus cupped his cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing Harry's skin softly. "Maybe tonight you should let those thoughts rest, hmm? I have something that might help. Come," he said, gesturing for Harry to get up. When Harry did so, Severus followed suit. In silence, the man took hold of Harry's wrist, tugging him behind him as Severus left the living room and ascended the staircase.

Severus pulled him into the master bedroom, the door swinging shut behind them. But instead of heading for the bed like Harry had expected, the man led him towards the piano. When they were both settled onto the bench, Severus looked askance at Harry noting the surprised expression on the boy's face. One of those rare, small, true smiles graced Severus' lips and Harry felt a jolt of longing in his heart and in his groin. "You assumed you would not receive a gift from me?" Severus queried, one eyebrow arching upwards.

"I...I didn't think you'd...I mean...I didn't expect you to give me one...or...or anything. I mean...it's not like you had to...or anything..." Harry trailed off as soon as he realized he was babbling, which only caused Severus' smile to morph into a smirk of amusement. Harry looked down at the piano, blushing, and finally noticed the sheet music on the attached stand. Across the top in Severus' neat script was the word Serenity. "You wrote something for me?" Harry gushed, the words mingling into one in his giddiness, embarrassment and excitement.

"Yes..." Severus said softly, his voice no more than a whisper, the sound touching Harry's ear drum like the sweetest kiss. Harry's heart clenched in his chest and to prevent himself from bombarding the man with kisses prematurely he wrung his left hand tightly in his right, nibbling his lower lip as Severus lifted the cover from black and white keys with gentle hands. The silence was so complete between the pair of them now that Harry's breath hitched when he heard the man release a rather shaky breath, but he had almost missed it the man was so discreet.

Was it possible that Severus was feeling nervous about performing what he had written for Harry? Did the man believe he was not talented enough to write something that Harry could appreciate? Or was the man simply afraid performing it would make him all the more vulnerable to emotions which he most certainly preferred to deny existed? Questions of that nature continued to whirl around Harry's mind as Severus brought his hands to the keys. If he watched carefully enough, he might have noticed the slight tremor running along the length of the man's arms and hands.

But whatever tremors or shaky breaths there had been ceased to matter as Severus' fingertips made love to the keys in front of him, the man's eyes drifting close as the reflection of his emotions escaped him through the beautiful notes of the piano...

To Be Continued.

Serenity is a beautiful composition by the Irish composer, Roy Todd. It is seriously stunning; look it up on youtube! ^_^

And awwwww! I love Softie-Sev! ^_^

Please leave a review; it takes only a moment!


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Seven

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Seven is a magical number *wink* If you're a prude...don't read... Sorry for the wait, by the way. I only got back from my holiday on Saturday. ^_^

Chapter Seven

Before Severus had even managed to play the final chord of Serenity, Harry made his move, capturing the man's hand. He pulled it away from the piano, bringing it right up to his face, brushing his lips against the soft palm. He dragged his lips up the length of the man's index finger, before lightly sucking on the tip, coating it in just enough warmth for the man to crave more from him. Severus pulled his hand away, but not by much, for it soon cupped Harry's cheek tenderly, his thumb caressing the soft flesh, earning a light tremor.

"I love you, Severus," Harry whispered, gazing into the man's eyes with every ounce of affection he felt for the man before him. Severus did not reply – at least, not in words. Instead, Severus leaned in and captured Harry's mouth with a tenderness no one would ever have suspected Severus could employ when dealing with another person. Harry melted into his lover's kiss, eyes drifting closed as he returned the man's kiss with every ounce of love and happiness that he could muster.

Severus sighed into the kiss and then the older Wizard's hand was losing itself in Harry's hair, effortlessly tugging the boy closer as Harry's own hands gripped Severus' robes. Harry soon found himself straddling the man's lap, wrapped up in Severus' arms with his back pressing against the piano keys, resulting in several discords as keys that were not in the same chords were played together. Harry giggled, briefly breaking their kiss as he jerked away from the instrument; pushing himself even closer to the man he was currently straddling, throwing his arms around the man's neck.

Harry was quick to begin kissing the man once more, Severus answering him immediately, their kiss growing more heated and passionate and needy than their kisses ever had before. Severus' hands, agile as they were, made short work of Harry's clothes, breaking their kiss for only a moment as Harry raised his arms into the air, allowing him to pull off his Weasley jumper and t-shirt. The planes of Harry's Quidditch-toned body were immediately visible, Harry's nipples hardening into nubs, both from desire and the touch of a cold breeze against his skin.

Severus dumped the boy's upper clothes onto the floor beside the bench and just sat there, admiring the benefits of Quidditch training, smirking as a light blush danced across Harry's cheeks. Causing the boy to clutch him tighter, Severus suddenly wrapped his arms securely around Harry and rose from the bench, carrying him across the room. Every touch and every movement worth more than a hundred-thousand words, Severus laid Harry gently in the centre of the bed, nestling his head amongst the pillows, leaning over him for the briefest of moments, enjoying how those emerald eyes were almost overrun with the black of desire.

Desire for him.

Only him.

Harry watched in silence, lips slightly parted, as Severus drew back from him, standing over him, looking down at him like he was the most beautiful thing on the face of the planet. Harry swallowed thickly as Severus began undoing the many buttons of his robes, his fingers moving deftly with a speed Harry could never have managed, no matter how many times he practised undoing them. Soon, the robes were pooling on the floor and Severus was kicking his shoes off, his socks were quick to follow.

He had seen Severus getting undressed before, but never like this. This was different. There was a sense of quiet urgency, coupled with a hint of determination and Harry knew without a doubt that this was the night. This was the night he and Severus would finally make love. A jolt of anxiety shot through him, but there was also a surge of excitement. The thought of making love with Severus, now, after all this time, no longer seemed as daunting as it had before. He knew, without a doubt, that Severus would listen if he said no, that the man would never willingly hurt him.

And Harry trusted him with everything that he was.

Harry's mouth went dry as Severus' waistcoat and shirt joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. It was not long at all until Severus was standing there, naked as the day he was born, and looking so handsome that Harry could hardly believe this man loved him...or wanted him, for that matter. But the man did and Harry could never have been more grateful for that fact; he would not have been able to stop himself from lashing out if Severus was giving his love and his body to someone else.

Severus was his and his alone. There was nothing in the world powerful enough to change that fact, not even death itself. Harry lifted his arms, a clear invitation for Severus to nestle within the span of them. Without a word Severus crawled onto the bed, slithering up the length of it, coming to rest above Harry, his forearms pressing into the bed on either side of the boy, thigh brushing lightly against Harry's trouser-clad crotch, which hid the hard length of Harry's needy erection.

Harry did not even bother to stifle the soft moan that escaped him as his hips rolled upwards, trying to get more friction. Severus' hand was cupping his hip instantly, soothing him into stillness. Without a word Severus kissed him, igniting that heat and passion they had enjoyed only moments ago, eliciting a soft sigh from Harry, who tangled one hand into Severus' locks while caressing the man's side with the other, earning the slightest hitch of breath from the older Wizard. Harry arched against him, brushing the flat planes of his stomach against Severus' abdomen.

They kissed for a long moment before Severus finally pulled away, trailing his lips down the length of Harry's jaw, towards his throat. Finding the pulse point, Severus patiently nipped and sucked and licked a love bite into existence, claiming Harry as his property. Harry moaned quietly, eyes squeezing shut as Severus did that. He wanted more, so much more. He wanted to feel the man's lips lower than that, much lower. He wanted the man to wrap his mouth around Harry's cock and suck him off. He wanted the man to make him scream.

"Severus, please," Harry breathed as the older Wizard smirked against his collarbone, before slithering lower, gracing Harry's chest with butterfly kisses and teasing licks. Harry gasped when the man's teeth found one of his hard nipples, tugging on it lightly, nibbling. Merlin, it felt so good. Severus had pleasured him before but tonight that pleasure was reaching heights Harry had never reached before and he did not know whether it was because he was finally ready to move onwards or not.

While Severus' mouth teased one nipple, his fingers made quick work of the other, pinching, tugging and rolling. Jolts of pleasure shot down through Harry's abdomen, pooling in his groin. Severus continued to descend down the length of Harry's torso, torturing Harry's navel with gentle nips, flicking the tip of his tongue into his belly-button, a parody of what was in store for Harry later that night. Pleasure was coiling inside of him, gradually climbing towards ecstasy as Severus touched and teased him.

By the time the tips of Severus' fingers found Harry's groin, the boy was babbling almost incoherently from the pleasure building inside him. His body was trembling and both of them knew he was not far at all from reaching his first orgasm of the night. Feeling some sympathy, Severus wrapped his hand firmly around Harry's cock and stroked him once, twice, three times and Harry's body arched as he spilled his juices all over Severus' hand. Harry ran a shaking hand down his face, brushing the sweat out of his eyes as he lay panting beneath his lover.

Smirking at how he could affect his younger lover so, Severus lapped at the boy's come, relishing it in spite of its acquired taste. When the man had his fill, he used the slightest of _Cleaning Charms_ to remove the rest of the boy's spunk. He crawled back up the bed, stopping when Harry's face was shadowed by his head. Eyes pure black now, Harry gazed up at the man he loved, his thighs welcoming the presence of Severus' hips. Harry's hands found their way around to Severus' shoulders, fingertips digging lightly into the man's flesh.

Severus kissed along Harry's jaw, dragging his lips up to the shell of his ear. He nibbled the soft skin of Harry's earlobe, before murmuring to him. "May I?" There was no need for Harry to ask what the man was referring to. He knew already what Severus was asking and his answer came out on a shaky, slightly anxious breath as he clutched the man closer, giving his lover his permission to continue with the intended proceedings. Severus released a soft breath, as if he had feared a negative answer, and began kissing his way towards Harry's mouth, claiming the soft, warm heat with every ounce of loving care he could muster.

Harry kissed him in return, breathlessly. Part of him could not believe that he had just given the man permission to make love with him, to take from him what he had been saving most guardedly. However, the majority of him knew that he had just made a life-changing decision in giving Severus the opportunity to take him, there and then – but only in the best way imaginable, Harry knew. "Would you like me to distract you while I prepare you?" Severus whispered against Harry's lips, voice like smooth caramel to Harry's ears in that moment.

Harry shook his head, the movement causing his lips to brush against Severus' mouth. Harry knew the man had only asked on the chance that Harry would prefer to have a distraction, but Harry felt that there was not much point in finally trusting the man enough to go all the way, if he was going to have Severus distract him from the sensations he might feel while Severus' fingers found his entrance. They kissed again, languidly, before Severus drew away slowly, virtually peeling his body away from Harry's.

The cool air of the bedroom hit Harry's skin immediately, but it was not an unwelcome sensation. On the contrary, it filled him with an even greater edge, a desire to earn the warmth of Severus' body once more. Severus moved across the bed, pulling out the drawer in the bedside locker. "One of your gifts," the man said quietly, withdrawing a familiar potions' vial. Even through the hazy lust that now filled his mind Harry recognised the gift Ron had given him for Christmas. Predictably, Harry's cheeks were stained with a red that had nothing to do with passion and everything to do with mortification.

Harry covered his face with his hand, turning his face away and Severus chuckled softly. "It seems someone felt you were farther down the road to full recovery than you and I had even thought prior to this moment."

Harry groaned against the palm of his hand. "Don't bring him up in bed, please."

"I have no intention of doing so," Severus said and even with his eyes closed Harry could tell the man was smirking winningly. "I believe you're my victim this evening." Harry could not help it; he giggled. And the awkward moment was broken as Severus gently tugged his hand away, leaning down to capture Harry's mouth tenderly. Harry sighed softly in pleasure, his previous state of quiet enthusiasm returning quite quickly as Severus kissed him with every ounce of affection and need that the man possessed.

Distracted as he was by Severus' mouth, Harry never realized the man had pulled the stopper free of the potions' vial until he felt the tip of a slick finger slip between the cheeks of his arse. Harry pulled back from Severus' mouth, allowing his head to fall back into the mound of pillows. He spread his legs a bit wider, pulling his knees slightly closer to his torso, even as he stared, wide-eyed, up at the man that had claimed his heart. Severus was gazing down at him with great determination, but behind that there was the fountain of Severus' feelings, which Harry could see regardless of how guarded the man might be sometimes.

His breathing shaky now, Harry gazed up at Severus' face as the man touched him again, fingertip rubbing soothingly. Harry shuddered beneath the dark-haired Professor. He had not realized there were quite so many nerve-endings in that area. Harry's eyes drifted closed at the pleasant sensation and that was when it happened; Severus began slipping his slick finger inside, inching his way forwards. Harry's eyes snapped open instantly, his body tensing at the burn he was now experiencing, even as his breath choked slightly within his throat.

The burn was not horrible at that very moment, but it was not something he could just forget either. It was insistently present as the man continued to touch him, working his finger further into him, only to pull back and pres forward again and again. Severus' eyes drifted upwards towards him, catching his gaze. Unspoken questions and concerns were written in the onyx depths, but Harry gave the man a smile, letting him know he was fine. Harry focused on relaxing his body and calming his breathing, knowing that tension would only make it more painful.

But even relaxing did not prevent the addition of a second finger from hurting. Harry's face tightened and he turned his face away to hide the pain shinning in his eyes, but Severus was far from stupid, noticing immediately that Harry's arousal had begun to wilt. Leaning down over him, Severus caressed Harry's cheek with his free hand, earning his attention with very little effort at all. Severus drew him into a kiss and ran his hand up and down the length of Harry's side. Harry had not wanted to be distracted initially, but he realized that this was much better than what it had been.

With his mouth and gentle hand, Severus soothed him, relaxed him enough that the actions of his fingers within that secret place was not terrible, but manageable. Soon, those two fingers were almost forgotten about as they plunged in and out of him, spreading him. When the third finger joined the first two, Harry moaned into Severus' mouth. The addition of the extra finger had not hurt so much as it made him feel strange. It felt really weird having Severus' fingers knuckle-deep inside of him.

The man's fingers changed angle before thrusting into him once more, brushing a bundle of nerves buried within him. Harry saw stars, his body arching against Severus', hands clutching the man closer to him, his head falling back amongst the pillows. "Do that again," Harry breathed. Severus chuckled deep in his throat and did so, earning a loud moan and a jerk of the boy's hips. "Oh, please," Harry moaned, "please, please, please, please, please, please." Harry's fingers dug into Severus' shoulders, but the older man did not seem to mind.

"Please, what?" Severus whispered, bringing his lips to Harry's ear, nibbling the earlobe lightly as within Harry's body his fingers assaulted Harry's prostate gland once more, several times.

"Fuck me." The words tumbled from Harry's mouth upon a sigh filled with the truest form of ecstasy Harry's cock, hot and hard and heavy, brushed against Severus' abdomen as the boy writhed against his hand, driving himself down on Severus' fingers. Harry bit his lip as he writhed against Severus, trying to get more of these wonderful sensations, earning another chuckle from his lover. "Fuck me," Harry said again, having no idea how those words, said in that pleasure-driven voice, affected the man above him. "Please. Please, fuck me, Sev."

"So demanding," Severus teased, slightly breathless, as he withdrew his fingers, which earned a mixture of a laugh and a huff of disapproval. Severus pulled back and Harry watched, eyes black with desire, as Severus drenched his fingers in lubrication, spreading it liberally on his raging hard on. The slick sounds were like music to Harry's ears as he stared at the movements of Severus' hand. But Severus stopped touching himself quite quickly, leaning over Harry once more, pressing their bodies together in all the right ways.

As Severus claimed Harry's mouth with his lips and tongue, he claimed Harry's arse with his needy arousal, guiding himself in slowly. Severus inched his way in as he was quite a bit thicker than his fingers, but still Harry tensed beneath him, nails biting into the flesh of his shoulder as a pained gasp broke their kiss. Severus brought his mouth to Harry's ear and he whispered soft words as once more he ran his hand down along Harry's side, soothing him as he inched his way past that tight ring of muscle.

But even when preoccupied with relaxing Harry, Severus could not help but shudder at the feel of Harry's tight heat clamping around him. Severus squeezed his eyes shut; half of his mind focusing on not exploding now that he was finally burying himself within his young love. Finally, when he was fully seated within Harry, Severus stopped moving, allowing Harry to grow accustomed to having him there. Instead, Severus contented himself with languidly kissing Harry, making Harry sigh in pleasure, relaxing around him.

When Harry's hips shifted slightly against his own, Severus knew that the boy was ready for him. He drew back from Harry's mouth, one hand coming to rest beside Harry's head, wrist disappearing through the gap between the pillows, his fingers gripping the bed clothes tightly. One hand slid down to Harry's thigh, caressing lovingly as Severus began to move within him. It was a slow, tender love making, drawing sighs of pleasure from Harry's lips, but the boy's eyes, darkened with ecstasy, never once left Severus' gaze...

To Be Continued.

Well, how was it? Did I deliver?

^_^ Hope you enjoyed.

Please, leave a review, it only takes a moment. And remember...this is pretty tame compared to what's out there.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Eight.

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thank you, so much, you guys for reviews and alerts. I'm glad the last chapter was so well received! On with the show!

Chapter Eight

It was late morning when Harry finally woke to the feeling of a dull ache throbbing throughout his lower back and limbs – the ache of muscles unused to vigorous exertion. For a short-lived moment he could hardly recall what had caused it. A split-second later the previous night's memories flooded the forefront of his mind. Remembering his activities, he knew he would never in a billion years regret what had occurred between himself and Severus. A smile crept its way across his lips, though he remained where he was, snuggling against a lengthy expanse of warmth.

It was nothing like the smile he wore when flying. Nothing like the one he wore when with his friends. Nothing like the one he wore when he had received his presents the previous day. The smile playing across Harry's lips, now, was soft and sweet, a reflection of the utter _contentment_ bubbling away within him, making his heart hum with love and the promise of a bright and beautiful future with the man he loved. It held promises of more nights like the one he had shared with Severus.

Being awake, he should have opened his eyes, but he felt no need to do so. Instead, he rested his messy-haired head more lovingly upon the chest beneath his ear, which rose and fell to the gentle rhythm of Severus' rumbling breath of deep slumber. He wrapped his arm more surely about the man's shoulder, slid his thigh partway across the man's hip. As if by instinct alone, Severus' arm, which had loosely circled him, tightened, hugging him still closer. It was as though Severus was trying to prevent him from leaving him.

_As if that were even possible_, a voice breathed softly within the confines of Harry's head. Harry brushed a light kiss against Severus' sternum. He knew very well there was nothing on this earth that could keep him from Severus, not even death. He would battle, tooth and nail, to stay by his side; come what may. Harry's breath gently ghosted across the man's nipple, but the man slept on, so Harry allowed himself to indulge. His fingertips idly caressed the man's shoulder as he remembered the sheer bliss of the night before.

Their night together had slipped, at some point – he could not remember when – from tender lovemaking to a passion driven fuck. If anyone had asked him how many times he had begged Severus to fuck him harder, faster deeper...he would be unable to tell them. The occurrences were far too numerous to count, but he did know that Severus had delivered on every single plea and then some. Harry was also aware that he would no doubt have bruises on his hips – but he could not have cared less.

He cherished the memories of a lust-driven Severus. Almost without his prompting, his hand drifted towards his neck, where Severus's love bites remained. They were tender under his touch, but he caressed them anyway, savouring the feel of them. Harry gasped when he suddenly felt lips brushing his forehead. "I can give you more if you like..." Severus murmured silkily, trailing off as Harry tilted his face upwards, expecting more and more kisses from the love of his life. Severus was only too happy to oblige, trailing butterfly kisses down Harry's face, before capturing Harry's mouth possessively.

Harry shivered as Severus' hand ghosted down the length of his arm. Harry pulled away briefly from the kiss, mumbling against Severus' mouth. "Thank you, Sev...for the best night of my life." Severus did not need to speak the words for Harry to know he was very welcome; it was written all over Severus' face. Their hungry kissing continued almost immediately and Harry knew the man was going to seduce him into another round of lovemaking. He would have succeeded had the door not burst suddenly open, banging against the wall loudly.

Harry jerked away from his lover, jerking sheets up to his chin, while Severus thrust his arm out, wand already in hand, a spell on his lips. But the spell died on Severus' lips as a look of indignation contorts his face. Standing in the doorway was Draco, eyes as wide as golden snitches, hands clutching the door frame in a death grip, his face paler than normal. "Merlin, tell me you didn't," Draco begged, looking from one to the other of them. But Draco's impertinent statement made Severus' indignation morph into rage and the blonde had to duck a rather vicious curse.

Draco tried again. "Severus! You don't understand! I –"

"Get. Out," Severus hissed, threatening him with his wand. Draco did not need to be told twice; he got out of the room so fast Harry almost expected the dust to form his slender shape in his absence. But at least he pulled the door closed. The moment ruined for them, Severus threw back the blankets and rose from the bed, marching nude across the room. Harry stared at Severus, wide-eyed, his hair as messy as a dog's dinner and his mouth agape. He had never been able to get over the sight of that arse, no matter how many times he had seen it.

The man pulled open the wardrobe with vicious movements, tugging clothes off their hangers. Harry's gaze rose from the man's arse, rising towards his shoulders, where tension bunched. Harry climbed out of bed, crossing the room to stand behind his love, wincing – moving hurt, but it was not unbearable. He reached up and there was a surge of magic from Severus – the magic was angry and he knew he would have to tread carefully. Tentatively he rested his hands on Severus' shoulder blades, closing his eyes in case the man's magic responded.

But there was no flare of accidental magic, so Harry gently massaged the man's back and shoulders which were now clad in a white shirt and black cashmere sweater. As soon as the man had calmed under his touch, he slipped his arms around the man and rested his head between his shoulders. The man was still furious, of course, but his magic was no longer threatening to incinerate their surroundings. "I had a weird dream last night," Harry said, seeking to distract the man.

"Mm?" Severus asked, one hand snaking its way around Harry's, fingertips gliding across smooth skin.

"Yeah," he answered. "I dreamt I was in the Forest of Dean with Hermione – she didn't have a scar on her face, which kind of freaked me out a bit – and Ron wasn't there. My wand was broken, so I had to use Hermione's wand when putting up Protective Enchantments. I think we were on the run from something...or someone – pretty sure it was Voldemort. Anyways, so I was sitting outside this big tent, with Hermione's wand in my hand, trying out spells even though they weren't working as good as they should have. Hermione was inside doing something – or maybe she was sleeping...I forget."

"Much as the inner workings of your subconscious fascinates me, we have guests. Is this going somewhere?"

"Yes, actually! You're so impatient," Harry said cheekily. "As I was saying, I was sitting there and then this silvery light started looming out of the darkness of the forest at me. At first...I thought it might have been...well...Mum," Harry whispered, arms tightening slightly around Severus' torso. "Then, I realized it was a patronus, but it wasn't one I recognise at all! It was a doe patronus and it was so graceful and beautiful," Harry said, babbling on, never noticing that Severus' fingers had stilled.

"I got up and the doe led me into the forest, deeper and deeper. I didn't even think to ask Hermione if she recognised it. I felt like it was calling out to me – only me – so I followed it. The doe led me to a near frozen pond in the middle of the forest and in the bottom of the lake sat the Sword of Godric Gryffindor and it was like the answer to dream-me's prayers. Hermione and I had been stumped for ways to kill Horcruxes without it. And I stripped off all my clothes in the freezing cold. Slytherin's locket was around my neck, whole and still filled with Voldemort's soul. I jumped in."

"Fool."

"Quiet, you," Harry said, rising on tiptoes to plant a kiss at the side of Severus' neck. "Anyway, so I jumped in and reached for the sword and the locket strangling me – like, it was seriously trying to kill me. Then, Ron appeared out of nowhere, dragging me out of the lake, with the sword in tow and he destroyed the locket and we had a manly hug."

"While you were naked...? My, Weasleys really are insatiable little buggers."

"No! Of course not – that was after I got dressed! So, anyway, that was my dream. Wasn't it weird?"

"Strange, indeed," Severus murmured, his fingers beginning their caress again. He turned in Harry's arms, hands cupping his cheeks immediately. Harry gasped in surprise as Severus kissed him, the man's continuing hunger for him ever-present. Harry gripped the man's sweater as his knees buckled. Severus' arms, sliding around him now, were the only things stopping him from falling as they kissed, their tongues battling for dominance. Harry moaned softly, pressing closer to the man, shifting his hips slightly as his morning wood came in contact with Severus' leg.

Severus chuckled against Harry's mouth, pulling back as he looked down. "You'll have to take care of that before you go downstairs; we don't want to frighten your guests." Harry blushed and swatted the man's arm. Harry stuck his tongue out at the man, stepping away as he summoned Kreacher.

"Kreacher, can you bring me some clothes, please?" Harry asked as soon as the House-Elf popped into existence, not really giving the creature a chance to take in what he was seeing. A moment later Kreacher reappeared, carrying a bundle of Harry's clean clothes in his arms. "Thank you," Harry said warmly, accepting the clothes from the House-Elf, who did not know where to look. To save face, Kreacher bowed so low his nose touched the ground.

"Is Master Harry being needing anything else?"

"Um, breakfast would be good, thank you." Kreacher nodded vigorously, ears flapping, and disappeared with a loud crack of disapparition. Severus slipped out of the bedroom, leaving Harry to dress in peace. Harry certainly did not find it peaceful, as he could hear angry voices from downstairs – and not just from Severus – but he had no idea what they were saying. Once he was dressed, his erection non-existent, he headed downstairs, only to be met by Padfoot on his way down.

Padfoot yipped, bounding towards him, tail wagging, tongue lolling, eyes bright. Harry grinned the moment he saw him and swooped down, opening his arms in invitation. Padfoot attacked his face with happy, loving licks and doggy kisses as Harry straightened, snuggling the puppy close. Harry scratched him behind the ears as he carried the little guy into the living room, where all the yelling was coming from. The yelling stopped as soon as he entered and Harry blinked as Severus released the collar of Draco's shirt, backing away from the pale, shaking boy.

Both of them are red faced, clearly embarrassed and furious simultaneously. Godric was standing behind Draco, rubbing his shoulders soothingly, while glaring hatefully at Severus. "What's going on?" Harry asked, looking at them all suspiciously.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but a murderous glare from Severus caused him to swallow thickly and look down at the floor. "Nothing."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You mustn't tell lies," he said, surprising himself by how calm it sounded.

"Look, Harry, I...it doesn't matter. Wasn't very important," Draco said, trying to discreetly glower at Severus, whose eyes flickered briefly with mild triumph. "I...it...just...Merlin...I..." Harry stared at the boy, surprise sending his eyebrows shooting upwards towards his hairline. He had never seen the Malfoy heir at a loss for words before in his life. There must be something monumental going on – something dangerous if Severus was unwilling to allow him to tell Harry about what was going on. "Just nothing...it was nothing. I wanted to berate you for filching a spoon of my ice cream."

"That doesn't explain why you wanted to know if we did the horizontal tango when you burst into the bedroom," Harry said softly, looking down at Padfoot a little sadly. "But it's alright; I'm used to people not telling me things." Harry petted his puppy gently, lovingly. "Just as long as whatever you're not telling me isn't going to endanger anyone I care about, then keeping me in the dark is fine. I don't need to know straight away, but feel free to inform me whenever the time is right. I'll be waiting."

Harry looked up and smiled at Draco – who stared at him, shocked – before moving over to the sofa. Harry settled down with Padfoot in his lap and the puppy made himself comfortable, resting his paws against Harry's torso, grinning dopily up at him. Draco and Godric were quick to sit with Harry on the sofa, leaving the wing-backed chair by the fireplace for Severus. Topics were quickly changed and decent conversation was made. Laughter was heard, stories were shared and smiles were worn.

It was approaching lunchtime when the floo flared to green life, spitting out Harry's friends. Ron's new 'mad-eye' was the first thing people noticed, as it kept swivelling around in its casing, looking everywhere and anywhere, but with a seeming purpose. Harry had bought him the magical eye-piece for Christmas – he would never forget the way Ron's eye lit up in happiness that he would have his full-sight back, with interest. Harry was up off the couch instantly, before he could be flattened by his friends who were rushing over to hug him.

As usual, Hermione was the first, her bushy hair tickling Harry's face. Harry hugged her back but only briefly as she was already pulling back, looking at him carefully. "Are you alright? Did you hit your head last night?" Harry answered yes to the first and no to the second and then she started hugging him again, so happy to see that he was fine. Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Daphne, Lavender and Theodore hugged him or slapped him on the back in quick succession. Leaving Godric and Severus to their adult conversations, the rest of them slipped into the kitchen to play a game of Exploding Snap.

"Oh!" Ginny said, almost dropping her cards halfway through a game. "I almost forgot! Bill asked me to tell you that he and Fleur would like to invite you over to Shell Cottage for dinner tonight, if you'd like to do him the honour."

"I'll discuss it with Severus when the game's over," Harry said, laying down his card, which just happened to be the match of the card placed before it. "Snap!" The cards exploded in plumes of smoke and fire, making them all jump in fright – again – and start coughing. As soon as the smoke and flames died down, the cards began reforming in order to allow the game to continue. They played until they had played all of their hands and then Harry rose from the table, telling them to deal him out of the next game.

Harry slipped into the living room, the men falling silent as soon as he did so. His gaze shifted from one to the other of them, before moving over to the armchair where Severus sat. Harry dropped to his knees beside the man's legs and folded his arms on Severus' thigh, resting his head on them. Harry smiled up at the man as Severus arched a brow at him imperiously. "Bill and Fleur invited us over for dinner."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"I'm not going."

Harry frowned. "Why not?"

"Do you really think they're inviting me because of my charming disposition?" Severus sneered.

"Yes," Harry said calmly, a smile creeping its way across his mouth again.

Severus snorted derisively, but before he could make a response, Godric spoke. "Come now, Severus; you're not that bad!" At Severus's glare, Godric amended himself. "Alright, you are an irritable bastard ninety-five percent of the time, but there is a noticeable difference when you're with Harry." Here, Godric smiled kindly. "When you're with Harry it becomes quite clear that you care for him deeply. You have a soft side, buried deep within you, no matter how much you might try to deny it."

"Spare me this idiocy," Severus deadpanned, summoning a book from upstairs, burying his nose in it. "Very well! Tell them we're going," he barked after several minutes of Harry staring at him with imploring emerald eyes. Grinning like an idiot Harry sent off his Patronus to Bill and Fleur, accepting their invitation to dinner. Harry settled more comfortably against Severus' lap, smiling as the man read to himself, the sounds of the pages turning soothing Harry in ways that he could never describe.

The day went swimmingly. Harry's friends joined them as soon as their game of Exploding Snap was over and in the living room they chatted for some time, before finally it was time for them to say goodbye. Draco and the others travelled via floo, leaving Harry and Severus alone. The two of them went upstairs, dressed in some casually fine Muggle clothes and then flooed directly to Bill and Fleur's Shell Cottage, which sat near a beach on the English coastline. They were very humble and gracious hosts and Severus even managed to not offend the lovely bride-to-be during dinner.

Harry felt that dinner with these two members of his family had gone splendidly. He could not wait to attend their wedding...

To Be Continued.

Sorry for the delay, people. I'm suffering a major writer's block.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Nine.

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Merlin, more than a month has gone by. I'm so sorry that this is coming so late. I've been really busy and really tired this past month. . (I've also been teaching myself how to draw Manga...). I've also become the admin of a few HP pages on facebook... I'll try not to let the next gap be so big... The scene below may seem a tad familiar; it's basically a Snarry re-vamped version of the Harry/Ginny scene at the burrow before the wedding. I own nothing but my laptop.

Chapter Nine

Several days passed since Harry and Severus had been invited to have dinner with Bill and Fleur. The to-be-wed couple had taken that opportunity to ask if he and a few others from the school choir would be willing to perform in rotation at their wedding, so that each of them would have a chance to relax between songs. Harry had accepted on his own behalf and had promised to get in contact with some of the others and let them know their responses. Now it was New Years Day, the day of Bill and Fleur's wedding.

Harry had spent the preceding days writing lyrics and music for the wedding reception and now the big day had finally arrived. The other performers were helping Molly and Arthur get the burrow ready for the wedding. Harry was getting dressed in Ron's room and Severus was downstairs, calming Bill down in his own acerbic fashion. In all honesty, Harry would have preferred it if Severus was upstairs with him. He wanted to admire the man in his pristine green and burgundy robes. Of course, he also wanted to kiss the man silly, but that was a different matter entirely.

Harry looked into the mouldy mirror resting against the wardrobe. Harry was just about to start tying his bowtie when there was a soft knock on the bedroom door. "Come in," Harry called over his shoulder, pausing momentarily. Harry watched the door open and was surprised to see Severus stepping into the room, as if merely thinking of the man had summoned him. "Hey," Harry said warmly, smiling at the man through the mirror. The corner of Severus' mouth quirked upwards and in moments he had come to stand behind Harry. "Don't I look smart, Sev?"

"As opposed to your usual appearance? No; I don't think your abysmal level of intelligence can be rectified by changing your clothes." Where once those words would have offended Harry and called upon his defiant nature, now they only called a laugh from his chest. Harry swatted Severus' arm, grinning at him in the reflection on the mirror. "Come here," the older man mumbled, stepping closer as he slipped his arms around Harry. Harry leaned back against his lover, forgetting his bowtie for the moment, and just revelled in the warmth of Severus' embrace.

Severus rested his chin on Harry's head, but the boniness of it did not really bother Harry in that moment. "It's stupid isn't it...?" Harry asked quietly, his gaze growing distant as he thought about it, "getting married in the middle of all that's going on..."

"Perhaps..." Severus began, arms tightening fractionally around Harry, "that is the reason why they are getting married. Just think about it; if you were Bill and you knew that at any moment everything could change with the flick of a wand, reflexes that aren't fast enough...would you want to die regretting never having given Fleur the happiest moment of her life first?" Harry chortled. "What, may I ask, is so humorous that you would laugh at such a thing?" Severus demanded to know, his tone sharp.

"You've been thinking about all of this!" Harry accused, smiling as he turned in Severus' arms, resting his hands against the man's chest, feeling his heart beat erratically. Harry gazed up at Severus, unblinking, even as Severus glowered down at him in an offended fashion. "Admit it," Harry whispered, stepping up on tiptoes to bring his mouth within an inch of Severus', "you're thinking of asking."

"I most certainly am not," Severus replied, his indignation clear. Severus' cheeks tinged with a faint pink; but it was not embarrassment. It was the culmination of his anger in that moment. Suddenly, without much warning, the mirror behind Harry exploded, but Severus, though he may have caused the unfortunate incident, reacted quickly, twisting them both away from the mirror, using his own body as a shield for Harry, in case the broken shards of glass should be projected towards them.

Harry poked his head up over Severus' shoulders, to assess the damage. "Are you alright?" Harry breathed worriedly, hands gripping Severus' robes tightly, almost afraid to let him go.

"I'm fine," Severus snapped, extricating himself roughly from Harry's grasp. "I'll see you downstairs," he almost barked, before disappearing out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Harry, who had reached out after him, allowed his arm to fall to his side. "Sorry," he muttered to no one in particular. With a saddened face, he turned towards the shattered mirror, whipping out his wand. With a nonverbal charm he repaired the glass and stood facing his reflection, which stared morosely out at him. "What are you looking at?" Harry grumbled, grabbing the ends of his bowtie. _Great! Now I'm talking to myself, _he thought as he began to do-up his bowtie, fussing over how straight it was.

When he felt he was respectable enough – even using the comb from Bill and Fleur to style his hair in a fashion that did not seem _too_ unruly – Harry left Ron's bedroom, taking the zigzagging stairs two at a time. Mr Weasley, who had just turned the corner to head up the stairs, virtually leaped out of the way as Harry barrelled towards him. "Sorry," Harry said, skidding to a stop, turning towards the elder Wizard, reaching a hand out to steady him as Mr Weasley almost lost his balance. "Alright?"

"Quite alright," the bespectacled man laughed it off, before heading up the stairs, clearly on an errand for his wife and soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Harry headed outside, smiling as the blue skies and sunshine became visible. A Large marquee had been erected on the hill, to accommodate the ceremony and the reception. A luxurious red carpet (courtesy of Apolline Delacour) spread from the marquee, down the hill and across a stretch of plain towards a smaller tent, which, Harry presumed, was more spacious than it appeared.

The twins were directing guests to seats, while Ron and Hermione lined the grass alongside the red carpet with garlands upon garlands of vibrant flowers. Harry thought they looked rather pretty. Harry made his way towards the marquee, slipping past Fred and George. He quickly located Severus and made a bee-line for him. "Still angry?" Harry asked, his voice barely more than a whisper so that only Severus would hear him.

"Still presumptuous?" Severus bit out forcefully in retort, refusing to look at him.

"I was joking."

"You're adding insult to injury now," Severus snapped quietly, finally looking at Harry. His glare was murderous. Harry did not hesitate, leaning in, capturing Severus' mouth and kissing him with every ounce of passion and love that he could muster. Severus raised his hand to push him away, but his hand turned traitorous, slipping into Harry's hair. Harry moaned softly against his mouth. "Brat," Severus murmured against Harry's lips, earning a warm chuckle and another kiss, deeper kiss.

When Harry pulled back, he cuddled into Severus' side as the man's arm slipped around him, holding him close. Generally Severus was not one for public displays of affection, but Harry could be quite persuasive, murmuring in Severus' ear that he would be a very happy man when he would fall asleep that night. Merlin, did Snape want to be a happy man that night. It was not long until all the seats were filled with wedding guests and Bill was standing by the Minister of Lawful Bonding with Charlie.

At the back of the marquee, Draco began playing the piano to announce the bride's approach. All the guests rose to their feet, turning towards the aisle in order to watch Fleur as she passed. It took almost ten minutes of the wedding march for the bride to finally reach the entrance to the marquee, with her father bouncing away at her side, looking as happy as a bluebird. The atmosphere in the room skyrocketed at the sight of the bride, who looked so radiant and joyful to be walking steadily towards her husband-to-be.

There was a sniffle heard near the front of the marquee and Harry had to wonder whether it came from Apolline or Mrs Weasley. "Wonderful," Severus murmured snidely at his side, earning an elbow to the ribs and an amused chuckle from Harry. When Fleur reached the Minister and the groom, all the guests sat down in the same moment. Everyone watched as the Minister gestured for the bridal couple to face each other. They did so and even from this distance Harry could see the intensity of their love for each other burning in their eyes.

A knot formed in his stomach, but he did not know precisely why that was the case. Harry glanced briefly at his own lover who seemed quite unperturbed by the event playing out in front of his eyes. Harry felt a slight pang in his chest and, tearing his gaze away, he had to wonder why. The man could very well be genuinely uninterested in what was happening or he could be occluding. It was extremely hard to tell the difference, Harry thought. But that did not explain the slight pain in his own chest.

Did Harry want to get married? Was that the problem here? He was confused by the notion. Pondering the concept of marriage, he thought it was a bit silly. The amount of wedding announcements in the papers showed that the majority of people getting married were closer to his own age than to Severus'. Why did they want to get married so young? They had so much time. Not everyone would be killed during the war – the majority of Wizarding Britain had decided to stay neutral. Most of Voldemort's forces now, Dumbledore had informed them some days beforehand, were of foreign or bestial origin.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts when Severus nudged him discreetly. Harry looked towards the Minister and the bridal couple. Bill and Fleur were grasping each other's left arms, gripping gently but firmly. The Minister brought the tip of his wand down on top of their joined arms. "Do you promise to have and to hold each other, through sickness and health, through poverty and riches, through war and peace, so long as you both shall live?" Looking into each other's eyes, Bill and Fleur vowed that they would do so.

A ribbon of golden light seeped from the tip of the Minister's wand and looped around their joined arms three times. The ribbon of light flared brilliantly, casting them all in its beautiful glow, and faded just as quickly. Left behind by the magic was a pair of identical wedding bands on their wedding fingers. "By the power vested in me by the Minister of Magic, I now pronounce you man and wife. Bill, you lucky fellow, you may kiss your lovely bride." With a roguish grin, Bill grabbed his wife, pulling her tight against himself.

Laughing, Fleur kissed him. All the guests jumped to their feet and clapped vigorously, some of them cat-calling and wolf-whistling. The air suddenly exploded magically with confetti, raining it down upon all of them. Harry turned to Severus and kissed him briefly, pulling back only to chuckle at the sight of purple love hearts clinging to the man's dark locks. Harry reached up and brushed them away gently. Around them, people moved to rearrange the furniture for the reception. Harry could hardly see them so bright did his love for Severus burn in that moment.

"Your sentimentality is awe-inspiring," Severus commented dryly, offering his arm to Harry as they moved off towards a table. They were soon joined by Theodore and Lavender, Godric and Draco, Lady Ravenclaw and Lady Hufflepuff, Salazar and a man that Harry recognized immediately as the man who had sold him Severus' gift.

"You!" Harry exclaimed in surprise, his wide eyes fixated on the blonde Half-Demon. "What are you doing here? And...why didn't you tell me who you were back at the shop?!"

The corner of Merlin's mouth twitched upwards fractionally. "Where would the fun in that be, Harry? To answer your previous question...I'm here because Godric forced me to come, in order to make Salazar uncomfortable. Isn't that right?" the Half-Demon said smarmily, turning his head towards Salazar and giving the Founder a smile that could have seduced a rock into bed. Salazar gave him a look that veritably burned with disdain.

"Don't mind those two," Godric said, his eyes bright with amusement. "Just a lovers' tiff."

"We're not lovers, Godric, and this," Salazar said tightly, gesturing between himself and Merlin, "is not a tiff." Salazar gave both Godric and Merlin a look that could kill, which only caused them both to smile in amusement. "Don't listen to a word they tell you, Harry; everything that comes out of their mouths is a lie."

"You say the sweetest things," Merlin said, smiling at him as he rested his chin on his palm and his elbow on the table.

"Fool."

"Dumpling."

"You're insane!"

"Thank you."

Salazar's cheeks reddened and his jaw tightened and Harry had a feeling the man was about to say something very crude but the appearance of food upon the many plates and dishes before them called it to a halt. Charlie got to his feet at the bridal table, calling everyone's attention by lightly clinking his spoon against his crystal glass – the set of which had been courtesy of the Delacours. "I'm a man of few words," he said once he had everyone's attention. He bowed and sat down, causing a quiet laugh to ripple through the guests before he arose once more, grinning.

"Seriously, though, I really do have very little to say about today. Welcome to the family, Fleur, you'll be a great addition! Bill's lucky to have won your heart." Charlie quickly leaned across the table and gave her a high-five, much to the shock of her mother and the delight of her father. Fleur laughed, the sound rather similar to the tinkling of a silver bell. Charlie sat down then, grinning like a fool while his brother gave him a half-arsed glare. Soon after that stellar speech from Charlie the celebratory meal began.

When Harry finished his dessert he rose from his chair and casually made his way over to the elevated platform towards the right-hand side of the marquee. He stepped up onto it and turned to face the tables. "Well, you could probably guess by now that a few of my friends and I have opted to be the wedding band for tonight. So, I'm going to start off the show with a nice slow song called, _Tangled Up In You_, which the happy couple can have their first dance to." Harry reached into his robe pocket and with his guitar, negating the effects of the _Shrinking Charm_ he had placed upon it earlier in the day. Harry conjured himself a medium height stool and sat on it, partially leaning. Closing his eyes, he began plucking the strings, the melody rising clearly due to an unconscious _Sonorous Charm_ he had cast.

You're my world, the shelter from the rain.

You're the pills that take away my pain.

You're the light that helps me find my way.

You're the words when I have nothing to say.

And in this world where nothing else is true,

Here I am still tangled up in you.

I'm still tangled up in you,

Still tangled up in you.

You're the fire that warms me when I'm cold.

You're the hand I have to hold as I grow old.

You're the shore when I am lost at sea.

You're only thing that I like about me

And in this world where nothing else is true,

Here I am still tangled up in you.

I'm still tangled up in you.

How long has it been since this storyline began?

And I hope it never ends and goes like this forever...

In this world where nothing else is true,

Here I am still tangled up in you,

Tangled up in you.

I'm still tangled up in you...

Still tangled up in you...

Bill and Fleur, who had risen from their seats sometime near the start of Harry's opening song and had gone out on the dance floor, stopped dancing. However, they remained in each other's embrace, clutching each other tightly. Bill rested his head against that of his lovely wife, face half-buried in the woman's soft blonde locks. Fleur's arms were around his shoulders, one hand cradling his head lightly. To everyone sitting at their tables, they seemed to be truly and utterly in love with one another. It was a beautiful sight.

Harry made his way down from the elevated platform as Daphne Greengrass mounted the steps leading up to it, glimpses of her slender leg viewable through the slit in her black silk grown, stopping mid-thigh. She gave him a high-five as they passed each other and, grinning, he practically skipped over to his table, greeting Severus with a kiss. "Come on, Sev, dance with me!" Harry said enthusiastically, trying to tug Severus out of his chair.

"I will not dance to that sentimental drivel," Severus retorted, folding his arms sternly. "Don't look at me like that," the man warned as Harry began giving him a look rather reminiscent to that of a kicked puppy.

A few moments later Remus Lupin would burst out laughing on the other side of the marquee as Harry dragged a reluctant Severus onto the dance floor...

To Be Continued.

Tangled Up In You is a song by Staind. And the song that Daphne sings is Sweet Love by Pia Toscano. I don't own them, don't sue.

I'm sorry if the chapter was boring, but as you can see Merlin and Salazar had a moment! ^_^

Also, I've joined twitter. If anyone wants to follow me, I'm FFAuthorWoodyG

^_^ Please review; it only takes a moment of your time.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Ten

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and your patience and everything guys! You guys are awesome. Also, I used Kingsley's warning from DH in this chapter. I don't own the passage; JKR does. Don't sue me.

Chapter Ten

Harry had to say that he was quite enjoying his first invitation to a wedding. He had wondered how it would go, but now he found it to be absolutely wonderful. He and Severus had been cutting the rug every chance they had – much to Severus' dismay. Severus had been fine with dancing at the Yule Ball – there had been more witnesses, but much less adults present. At Bill and Fleur's wedding reception there were more adults than students and no matter where they turned Severus was getting the evil eye in some way, shape or form.

It took all of Harry's will power not to curse the lot of them for even daring to look at Severus in a less than friendly fashion. He did not want to ruin Bill and Fleur's special day. When Harry was not dancing with Severus, the man was either sitting with Godric or he was mingling with various Order members – Frank and Alice, more often than not, however. At least with Frank and Alice, Severus did not have to worry about losing his temper on some idiot who dared to make idle comments about himself and Harry.

There were only a few songs left, Harry knew. Three, to be precise. The first was named _Amortentia_ – a duet with Ginny – the second was entitled _Call Me_ – which was a duet with Draco – and the last was called _Without You_. At the moment, Daphne was crooning another lovely number, while Harry was wound up in Severus' arms, kissing him silly. They had long since stopped dancing. Eventually, Harry pulled back from Severus' mouth, but only slightly. Harry smiled coyly at him. "I love you," Harry murmured.

Severus did not answer verbally, but the tightening of his arms around Harry might as well have been his declaration of it. Harry stroked the fabric of Severus' dress robes with his fingertips, wanting nothing more than to go home to their cottage and make sweet love until morning. But the Weasleys were family and he would never skip out on a gathering without absolute necessity – like a Death Eater attack or something of that like. Harry rested his head against Severus' shoulder and smiled when he felt the man's chin against the top of his head.

Not too far away from them, Dudley was twirling Ginny around, making her laugh, before she threw herself on him, grinning like a fool. Ron and Hermione were dancing, too, but slowly, out of time with the beat. Remus and Dalmazio had gone off somewhere to canoodle and Donatello, August and Crystal were dancing with Luna and her father, looking strange but happy. Ollivander was there, too – Moody had not felt right about leaving him on his own; the ex-Auror did not trust anything or anyone, so he had thought it would be best to just bring him along.

The wand maker was off to the side, talking with his grandson, Rolf Scamander. Rolf, Harry had noticed earlier, was a fairly attractive young man in his twenties. His hair, black in the majority, had electric blue tips that glowed slightly, pulsating with magic. The man was studying at the Merlin University; he wanted to become a Magizoologist, Ollivander had proudly stated earlier that evening. The young man in question, while talking with his grandfather, was shooting glances towards Luna every now and again, as if he found her so enthralling he could hardly keep his eyes off her for too long.

Harry could not blame him. While not conventionally beautiful, Luna stood out from other girls quite well. She was easily the most interesting and quirky girl in the marquee. Of course, Luna was only sixteen at the moment, but she would become an adult in next to no time. Harry wondered if Rolf had even spoken to Luna, yet, or if he was just admiring her from afar for now. He knew that men with low self-esteems had trouble working up the courage to speak with attractive girls.

As long as the man did nothing untoward, he was harmless. If he did do something untoward, Harry was sure he would not be the only one jumping in to defend Luna from him. So, Harry tore his attention from the situation for now and closed his eyes, content to just be in Severus' arms. At least, he was until Daphne's song came to an end and it was time for himself and Ginny to go up onto the elevated platform. Kissing Severus' cheek lightly, Harry departed, heading for the platform. Ginny was soon at his side.

To save Draco from having to play the piano again, Harry flicked his wrist towards the instrument, murmuring a charm under his breath so that the keys would begin pressing themselves in the melody he wanted. The piano came in first along with Ginny singing wordlessly in a rather angelic fashion.

_[Harry]_

_It's such a beautiful irony,_

_That we're here together,_

_Just you and me._

_Did Angels make this place?_

_This quiet, little space_

_Just so I could see the magic_

_Reflect off your face_

_As we're singing?_

Harry and Ginny sang in unison then for the wordless chorus, before Ginny came in with the second verse.

[Ginny]

_It's hard to verbalize it._

_Oh, my dear,_

_But I've tried to make my,_

_My feelings clear._

_I never thought that I would see_

_You staring back at me_

_With the look of love in your eyes,_

_So emerald green._

_Now we're singing._

Harry and Ginny did a final chorus as the music began fading out. They smiled at each other and she waved at him before strutting away, only to be replaced by a smirking Draco. Draco sauntered over to the piano and took a seat on the bench, his long fingers almost caressing the ivory keys. Harry and Draco exchanged a glance and Harry nodded his head fractionally, but Draco caught it. The platinum blonde pressed the keys in a melancholy fashion, leading them both into the song.

[Draco]

_Wrap me in a bolt of lightning._

_Send me on my way still smiling._

_Maybe that's the way I should go,_

_Straight into the arms of the unknown._

[Harry]

_I left the spare key on the table._

_I never really thought I'd be able_

_To say I merely visit on the weekends._

_I lost my whole life and a dear friend._

[Both]

_I've said it so many times._

_I would change my ways._

_No, never mind._

_God knows I've tried._

[Draco]

_Call me a sinner._

[Harry]

_Call me a saint._

[Both]

_Tell me it's over,_

_I'll still love you the same._

[Harry]

_Call me your favourite._

[Draco]

_Call me the worst._

[Both]

_Tell me it's over,_

_I don't want you to hurt._

_It's all that I can say..._

_So I'll be on my way._

[Harry]

_I finally put it all together,_

_But nothing really lasts forever._

_I had to make a choice that was not mine._

_I had to say goodbye for the last time._

[Draco]

_I kept my whole life in a suitcase._

_I never really stayed in one place._

_Maybe that's the way it should be,_

_You know I live my life like a gypsy._

Harry and Draco sang a second chorus, before Harry performed the bridge.

[Harry]

_I'll always keep you inside._

_You healed my heart and my life..._

_And you know I try._

After the third chorus the song was over and Draco rose from the piano bench. The final song to be performed, _Without You_, was a much more upbeat song, but still had darker undertones. Harry was in the middle of the chorus when something alarming happened. Glowing ethereally, a Lynx Patronus fell through the top of the marquee, startling everyone, even Harry, into stillness and silence. The Lynx opened its mouth and Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice echoed from its silvery depths.

"_The Ministry has fallen_," the message began. There was a collective gasp from the guests gathered in the marquee. "_Scrimgeour is dead_." Severus rose from his chair at the other side of the marquee, his face draining of what little colour there had been. People were clutching their loved ones. Rolf was leading his grandfather away from the edge of the marquee. Merlin was pulling an odd amulet from around his neck, pricking his finger with one of the sharp ends. The amulet glowed vibrant red and the blonde placed it around Salazar's neck, ordering him to leave it there.

Then, Merlin was gone, as if he had never been there in the first place. "_They are coming_." A panicked cry began echoing its way around the marquee. Guests began hurriedly running out of the marquee and disapparating, holding onto their loved ones with vice-grips. Members of the Order of the Phoenix were hastily moving towards the edge of the marquee, erecting extra protective enchantments. Harry jumped off the elevated platform, trying to push his way through the bustling crowd in an effort to reach Severus' side.

Harry did not make it very far before Dumbledore was suddenly at his side, his wizened hand grasping Harry's upper arm in a firm but gentle grip. "Quickly, Harry; we must get you out of here," the old Headmaster said, quickly guiding hi away, in the opposite direction where Harry had been heading. "The apparition wards only allow entry, we most move beyond the wards before we can get you away." Harry started protesting, trying to pull his arm free. "I know you don't want to leave," Dumbledore said quickly, briefly looking down at him, "but you must. Voldemort is unlikely to make an appearance here; we cannot risk a Death Eater striking you down. Otherwise, all hope will be lost."

Even though Harry wanted to protest further, he knew Dumbledore was right. The Horcrux was living inside Harry and the only way it would be destroyed would be for Voldemort to kill him himself. They could not risk a Death Eater doing it by accident. With that set firmly in his mind, Harry hastened his pace, following Dumbledore rather than fighting him. Dumbledore and Harry had just exited the marquee when a series of cracks sounded in front of them, signalling the arrival of a number of Death Eaters.

Judging by the frightened screams echoing through the night, Voldemort's followers had surrounded the marquee. Dumbledore and Harry stopped in their tracks as evil eyes leered at them from behind bone white masks. "Out for a mid-night stroll were you, Dumbledore?" Bellatrix Lestrange asked, before devolving into wicked cackles, almost hopping on the spot with her giddiness.

Dumbledore smiled benignly at the insane woman opposite him. "Something like that," he answered pleasantly, gently pushing Harry behind himself. Harry swallowed thickly. He had not been on the best terms with Dumbledore lately, but Dumbledore was still protecting him. It made him feel incredibly guilty for how he had treated him. If they both made it away from this altercation, Harry would apologize to him as soon as he could. It was unfair for Harry to continue to be spiteful towards him when the man was doing so much for him all the time these days.

"Afraid he'll come quietly?" Rodolphus Lestrange asked, chuckling darkly at the sight of Dumbledore keeping Harry behind him.

"Not quite," Dumbledore answered, his smile broadening. "I'm more afraid that he'll hurt you; he's a rather skilled duellist, you know." Harry stared at Dumbledore as if he were crazy. Was the old man actually baiting the Death Eaters? Rodolphus growled, clearly insulted, and thrust his wand arm out, beginning a duel that would inspire awe in Harry for the rest of his life. Dumbledore duelled with twenty or so Death Eaters, his movements flowing like water down a river. It almost seemed like there were not enough opponents for him.

It was clear that, as powerful as the Death Eaters were, they were no match for the power of Lord Voldemort, which had, at least, given Dumbledore some trouble during the battle in the Department of Mysteries. Though he seemed to handle his opponents with apparent ease, the expression on his face was no longer the benign grandfatherly one. It was a tight, grim expression, as if he expected many people to be hurt that night – and not necessarily the Dark Side.

Whenever a spell came close to hitting Harry, the older man would step in front of its path, muttering brief _Shield Charms _as he did so. Sounds of duelling echoed around all sides of the marquee as the Order opposed the Death Eaters with the best of their ability. Dumbledore slowly began driving his own opponents backwards as he moved forward determinedly, Harry moving along behind him, wand out in case one managed to slip past Dumbledore. He felt incredibly guilty letting Dumbledore fight on his own, but every time Harry attempted to join the fray, the man shoved him backwards.

They were several feet away from the marquee when there suddenly came the sound of apparition from behind Harry. Erected quick shields, Dumbledore whirled around to face the newcomer just as Severus emerged from the marquee, bearing a cut on his forehead. It was clear he had just been involved in a vigorous duel and was now on his way to help get Harry out of the battlefield before something regrettable might happen.

However, something strange happened as he was approaching them. Dumbledore, who had turned to face the new enemy, met the grey-blue eyes looming out from within the bone-white mask. Blue eyes suddenly twinkling in their usual manner and a benign smile stretching across his wizened mouth, Dumbledore grasped Harry's shoulder tightly and gave him a hard shove. Harry stumbled, over-balancing, almost falling on top of the Death Eater before him. The Death Eaters behind Dumbledore cried out in confusion as that lone Death Eater locked his arms tightly around Harry, turning with a swirl of robes as he began to disapparate.

Harry's face contorted in panic as that squeezing sensation over came him and there came a loud sound, one Harry had never heard before; one of pain and betrayal. "No!" Severus yelled, clearly feeling shocked, horrified, pained, betrayed and many other powerful emotions. There was a sharp tug on the end of his robes as Severus latched onto him mid-disapparition. The three of them were gone with a loud crack, leaving Dumbledore alone with his opponents once more. Smiling rather disarmingly, the man turned to face the rest of the Death Eaters.

The lot of them were stunned, as confused by the incident as Harry had been. "Now, then, where were we?" Dumbledore inquired pleasantly before once again continuing his duel with his numerous opponents. He was quickly joined by Minerva McGonagall who, before exiting the marquee, had disarmed, stunned and bound several Death Eaters herself.

"Where's Harry?" she asked as she lunged into the duel at his side.

"Taken care of," he answered cryptically. "Watch your left flank, Minerva." The witch did so, but she had hardly needed Dumbledore's prompting; she had, after all, been duelling enemies for more than sixteen years. They divided the group evenly between them, Dumbledore's motley bunch containing the rather psychotic Bellatrix Lestrange...

To be Continued.

Yes, this chapter was a little shorter than the others. But it's meant to be a bit of a cliff-hanger. ;) I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Amortenita – Let's Lumos (Yeah, I reverted the genders for the fic)

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	11. Chapter 11

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Eleven

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Glad you enjoyed the last chapter guys. Thanks for the reviews and continuing to follow this story; it's all really appreciated! ^_^ (And omg I just watched Doctor Who for the first time. EPIC SHOW IS EPIC! I am now set firmly in the belief that Snape was really the illegitimate son of the Time Lord and become the next one. He didn't die in the shack; he went off in the Tardis.)

Chapter Eleven

With a loud crack of displaced air, Harry, his masked captor and Severus popped into existence in the middle of a busy street at the heart of London. The horn of a bus jarred the three of them and it was only the Death Eater's quick reflexes that had them disapparating once more, reappearing in a dingy alley not too far away from where they had initially landed. Harry stumbled, dragged backwards from Severus' vice-like grip on his robes. The Death Eater's arm tightened around him, clearly unwilling to release him.

Severus, an enraged snarl on his face, lunged for the Death Eater, the wand in his hand forgotten. Harry's captor only released him at the last second, fending a blow to his masked face from Severus. The two older Wizards collided with a mighty crash. The force of Severus' movements knocked the Death Eater off balance, sending him falling hard against the side of a bin. The masked man blocked every blow Severus' dealt to the best of his ability and when finally the surprise of Severus' physical attack had subsided the masked man began to truly fight back.

The Death Eater dealt a blow to Severus' abdomen, winding him a little – Severus had seen it coming and had danced back, but the hit still landed. He followed it up with a punch to the face, knocking Severus' backwards and tearing the stern professor's lip. Blood gushed and instantly wands were up and aimed at each other, both of them panting from the physical exertion of their physical altercation. "I will kill you for daring to even touch a hair on his head," Severus promised, his voice dark and cruel; a hundred times more frightful than Harry had ever heard it.

"I am not your enemy, Severus," the masked man said in a quiet voice. His grey-blue eyes – Harry was certain he had seen them before, but was unable to remember where – locked with Severus' onyx gaze. Holding his hands up briefly in a sign of peace, the masked man reached up towards his own face, pushing his hood down, and pulled the mask away, revealing a handsome face with stress lines around his eyes. Harry's stomach fell through the floor at the sight of the man before him. "In fact," the man continued in that same quiet tone, "you once called me a friend."

Severus' hand tightened around his wand. His upper lip curled in a cruel sneer. "_Polyjuice_ doesn't work when using matter from the dead, but _Glamour Charms_ still remain. Prove to me that you are who you appear to be, before I curse your head clean off for desecrating his image." The now unmasked man flicked his wand hand and a silvery Patronus shot out of the end of it. The corporeal Patronus was in the shape of a dog – a dog Harry would recognise no matter what colour it was.

"Sirius," Harry breathed, his heart constricting painfully in his chest as he recollected his Godfather's Animagus form. Severus' face blanched, wand slipping free of his now slack hand. Still in shock from the revelation unfolding before them, they failed to hear the slight pop signalling another Wizard's arrival. Suddenly, Severus' entire body crumpled to the ground, his eyes unseeing, revealing the Half-Demon, Merlin, staff gripped tightly in hand. The Half-Demon had clearly just stunned him.

The three of them looked down at Severus. "It's best we get him home," Merlin said, his expression a little grim as he glanced up at Harry, "get him relaxed and give him tea for shock. All the stress is bound to be taking its toll on the poor man's heart."

Harry stammered out many words in agreement with Merlin, but they came out rather garbled. Finally he managed to force, "the house is under the _Fidelius Charm_; you won't be able to get in," past his unhelpful tongue.

"As long as it's not warded against Half-Demons – which it isn't – I'll find a way to get the pair of us in," the curly-haired blonde said, sticking his tongue out at him before reaching down. With apparent ease, Merlin lifted Severus' unconscious body into his arms, cradling the dark bundle against his chest. Merlin disappeared with Severus with a quiet pop.

Still mildly numb, Harry turned towards the unmasked man, a question tumbling from his mouth. "Does this make you my God-Uncle?"

The corner of Regulus Black's mouth quirked upwards into an approximation of a smile. "I suppose it does."

θθθ

The inside of the marquee was in chaos; there was a tidal wave of moving bodies and hastily incanted charms, hexes, jinxes and curses. Hardly anybody knew anything beyond the fact that they were duelling to either kill or to survive and escape. However, three people were not duelling. Luna Lovegood had noticed the obvious terror etched onto Ollivander's worn face and had made a beeline for his side, to help get him out of there. She had learned, from Harry, that Voldemort was after him.

She could not allow the poor wand maker to be captured – even if she thought coming to the wedding had been an awful risk on his part. Taking the old man's hand, she had started to run, wand out in case she would need to defend them. She was followed by the wand maker's grandson, Rolf Scamander. With two whippersnappers looking out for him, Ollivander was relatively safe for the moment. With Luna guarding his front and Rolf watching his back, it would be one hell of a fight if a Death Eater tried to take him from them.

The three of them moved through the marquee, heading for the side that had the least Death Eater opposition, dodging the dancing bodies of duellists and the helter-skelter spells flying in every direction, utterly random. They had almost made it to the other side when an alarming snarl sounded from behind them. The three of them whipped around, only to be faced by what could only be a fully grown Werewolf in complete control of his changes. His eyes were black and his teeth had extended into fangs, while his hands had become claws.

He was joined by three others – one of them was female. Luna briefly wondered whether they had been part of Greyback's pack or if they were affiliated with a pack at all, but it was an extremely brief thought; she was a bit preoccupied with the fangs and claws ready to tear into her and her companions. Instinct brought her arm up, a spell shooting out of the end of it; a _Stinging Hex_ by the look of it. It hit the Werewolf in the face, causing him to stumble backwards, hissing and snarling in pain and shock; people normally never fought back, too taken over by fear.

Luckily, Luna was nothing like other people. Her instantaneous response jarred Rolf and Ollivander into action, the younger grabbing a hold of the elder as they quickly began moving away from the Werewolves. Luna followed them, still facing the Werewolves, casting hex upon hex at her enemies. They quickly got over their shock and began chasing them, pushing through the hexes thrown at them, regardless of cuts, bruises, burns and stings that assaulted them. Being Werewolves, they were stronger than humans, could withstand more damage and so it would take a great deal of power to slay one.

"Run," Luna said, for once her voice did not hold the dreamy tones it usually did; instead it was sharp and harsh. The three of them, followed by their pursuers, were almost to the edge of the marquee when two blurs sailed over Luna's head, colliding heavily with the four Werewolves. Ollivander let out a girlish scream of terror, his hand rising to cover his mouth even as Luna came to the realization that their rescuer was none other than her one-time Professor, Remus Lupin and his mate, Dalmazio Moretti.

Taking a moment to get over the shock of seeing Remus with fangs three inches long and claws that could tear her face off, Luna hustled Ollivander and his grandson out of the marquee, though she was quite torn in doing so. She did not want to leave Remus and Dalmazio outnumbered; but at the moment protecting the wanted wand maker was a top priority – whatever secrets he held, Lord Voldemort could not achieve his aim of learning them. Ollivander had to be protected at all costs.

Luna stepped out from within the marquee, following the other two, but she was knocked to the ground when something hard slammed into her face. There was a loud crunch as her nose broke, blood pumping out of the wounded appendage, streaming down her face. Groaning in pain, she brought her wand up to defend against her assailant – even her concussed brain knew to defend itself, driven by mere instinct. The wand, however, was wrenched from her grip and thrown to the side as a large bulky man, his eyes black with his Werewolf blood, leered down at her. "Such a pretty thing," he said, smiling, revealing fangs with half-rotted food stuck between them. "Be a shame to leave you behind."

_Leave me behind_, her slightly concussed brain wondered in confusion. Her dreamy eyes glanced around for her companions. Ollivander was locked in a strangle-hold by a burly Werewolf female who had a grotesque habit of licking the poor man's cheek, further terrifying him. Rolf was held aloft by a Werewolf that was as built as an Ox. The Werewolf reached down and grasped a fistful of her hair as she tried to crawl away. He gave a good hard wrench, earning a yell of pain as he lifted her right of the ground, gravity pulling on her body as he pulled on her hair. For a horrified moment she thought he would rip the scalp clean off her head.

But she was wrong; an arm wrapped itself around her slight body. Hugging her to his torso, the Werewolf took off, accompanied by the others and their captives. The fight within the marquee was so chaotic that no one knew they had been captured until the battle was over and the Death Eaters had left, leaving the Order to track down the guests to be certain of who was safe...

θθθ

Harry knelt by the sofa of their cottage – Merlin was right; he had been able to get himself and Regulus past the _Fidelius Charm_ – and gazed down at his lover, who was still unconscious. Harry held the man's hand between both of his own, holding it close to his heart. "Aren't you going to wake him up?" he asked, not looking at Regulus, who was by the fireplace, leaning against the mantle with both hands, his eyes closed. The man was rather deep in his contemplation of how he should explain his existence to the pair of them, but Harry was unaware of the man's inner turmoil.

"No," Regulus answered, stalling, knowing very well that Merlin was inside the kitchen, pottering around, making tea – to help with Severus' nerves when he would eventually be brought round, "not quite yet. Don't you think he'll want an explanation of why I'm even alive? I have to explain it to him in a way that won't sound absolutely daft!"

"Considering you're alive at all," Harry retorted sharply, rising to his feet, leaving Severus' hand resting upon the unconscious man's abdomen, "daft has pretty much been covered, already." Harry turned to glare at Regulus, who was still dressed in his Death Eater robes.

"So you think 'Severus, your dead mother punched me in the chest and I woke up' is a good enough explanation do you?!" Regulus demanded to know, turning around to face Harry, his own blue-grey eyes narrowed dangerously. He was a tower of anger in that moment; a lot like Sirius could have been at times, especially when Severus was goading him.

"Well...you died," Harry said quietly, looking anywhere but at Regulus all of a sudden. The man looked so much like Sirius; it was truly painful for Harry to look at him in the face. "You died for long enough for your connection to Kreacher to be severed. We both know Severus' mother died when he was a teenager; it's not...impossible that you met her during your brief journey to the afterlife."

"I suppose so," Regulus conceded miserably and then he looked down at himself. A look of pure hatred and disgust came over him and he began ripping off the ghastly robes he had been wearing, revealing a pair of slacks and a blue-grey shirt to match his eyes. He set fire to the robes immediately once they were off him, tossing them into the fireplace with a snarl. "I never want to wear those robes again."

"With any bit of luck you won't have to; we haven't had a spy since Severus was revealed as being on our side last summer."

Regulus smiled in slight amusement. "Figured he'd see the error of his ways; he was always one for repenting, ever since he was a wee boy. His father was a nasty fucker bent on teaching him to be penitent for anything and everything he ever did," Regulus said, glancing in Severus' direction, a hint of pity creeping into his voice.

"I'm well aware," Harry answered, anger bubbling up inside of him, "and don't you dare pity him; he doesn't need it or want it."

"Oh, I know that," Regulus answered, pulling his gaze away from Severus, looking directly at Harry now. "It's not easy though, is it? Knowing what he's been through."

Harry grumbled under his breath, but inevitably agreed with him. "In any case," he said, returning to their original topic, "I don't think how you're alive is going to matter very much to him; it'll be why did you never tell him." Turning around, he never noticed the stricken look that came over Regulus' face as he returned to his original position beside Severus, reclaiming the man's hand. "What's it like..." Harry asked quietly, closing his eyes against the pain that was suddenly pulsating in his chest, "...dying? Does it...hurt...?"

With a long, heavy sigh Regulus sat down on the arm chair and put his face in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. "The moment of death? Absolutely painless; it's quicker and easier than falling asleep. In many cases, however, there are...unmentionable tortures preceding that moment."

"What about falling through a veil and disappearing from the world forever?" Harry whispered, turning towards him, imploring him. "Would that be considered a torture?"

"I...I don't know," Regulus confessed, lifting his face. His blue-grey eyes mirrored the pain Harry felt, deep inside. He shook his head, then, shutting his eyes. "I don't know." Harry turned away from him, staring down at Severus' torso, blinking away the sudden sting that started to build in his eyes. "I miss him, too." The words were barely more than a whisper, but they found Harry's ears regardless, no matter how much he tried to block them out. They would not obey him, they would not leave him be.

"All those years," Harry said tightly, "all those years Sirius thought you had died at eighteen, murdered by Death Eaters while trying to escape something you had joined when you were a naive child still."

"I know."

"Why didn't you ever _say_ something?! A Letter, your Patronus, a floo call, a trip home. _SOMETHING_! He died with the guilt of driving you away still on his conscience!" Harry rounded on the man who had come back from the dead, his face dark with a swiftly mounting rage. Regulus said nothing; he did not even bother to defend himself, as if he had expected this exact reaction from Harry.

"Harry, think about the man that you knew," Regulus said miserably, looking towards the fireplace. "Do you really believe Sirius would have paused to ask questions before reacting to the sight of me? He'd have killed me as soon as look at me, believing I was a Death Eater sent to torment him. You _know_ this! Sirius was smart...so _smart_...but even smart men can be fools blinded by reckless impulses; he was a Gryffindor to the core, my brother, from day one. I just didn't want to believe it; I didn't want to think that he would be separated from me like that, blinded by House and social prejudices, turned against me when I had done nothing wrong sitting under that sorting hat. He tarred me evil by mere association to my house."

"He did that with a lot of people," Harry protested.

"Yes, as do you and your schoolfellows, but it is a hundred times more devastating when it happens to the best of friends – as Severus would attest – or to _family_. The only reason those Patil twins get on so well," Regulus said earnestly, causing Harry to blink with surprise, "is because neither of them landed themselves in the snakes' den. Neither of them suffered the injustice of House and social prejudices that run rampant within that thrice blasted school. They have _no idea_ how _fortunate_ they _are_, Harry."

"I think I do," Harry said, slowly beginning to calm down as Regulus spoke; there was just a soothing quality to the man's voice, much like there had been with Sirius. "The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, you know. Sometimes, I wonder if I'd even have the friends that I have, if I hadn't encouraged the hat to place me in Gryffindor. I wonder if..." Harry glanced towards Severus, "I wonder if the love of my life would have grown to see me as a son if I had been placed in his house...one of his precious snakes."

At this point Merlin came into the living room, bearing a tray laden with tea and some sandwiches. "Time to awaken Sleeping Beauty," he said brightly...

To Be Continued.

So, there.

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	12. Chapter 12

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Twelve

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Surprised you, didn't I? ^_^ Sorry for the delay guys! I got a little distracted with Snape's life story. Lol.

Chapter Twelve

The room was dark; there were barely any candles lighting. Fenrir Greyback knew where he was without opening his eyes – the smell of dust and dampness virtually gave the location away. He was shackled to a chair, locked into one of the normally unused dungeons in Hogwarts. He had been held captive there since his defection when he helped Bradley Dale and the two children escape from Lestrange Manor. He did get visitors of the human variety, sometimes, but mostly his only company were the House Elves that brought him his food and water every day.

Somewhere above him, there were less than ten students scattered around the entire school with three or four professors – as well as the caretaker and librarian – to keep an eye on the students that opted to stay at Hogwarts this Christmas. Unfortunately, he was still under the influence of the bond with the Dark Lord – meaning, he wanted to get out of that dungeon and tear into a young boy or girl. There was an upside, however; Dumbledore had managed to weaken the bond enough for Fenrir to be able to ignore the cravings inside of him.

Lucky thing too, as a second later there was an explosion of blue light and a pregnant Witch with bubblegum pink hair landed heavily in his lap. "Ouch!" he growled as her weight almost crushed his family jewels. "Get off me, you oaf." The pink-haired Witch was up off his lap as quick as she could manage, gazing at him in a mixture of horror and upset. He could smell her hormones reacting to his harsh words. "Brilliant," he murmured as tears slipped down the woman's cheeks. Highly emotional, the woman shook terribly as she tried to get herself under control. "If it makes you feel better; I've seen fatter women," Fenrir said, a mean smirk tugging at the corner of his cruel mouth.

"Shut up, Greyback, before I break your face," the Witch snapped, tugging viciously at a rather pretty bracelet on her wrist. She was unable to remove it, however, causing Fenrir to believe there was a _Sticking Charm_ in place at the clasp.

Fenrir snorted in amusement, eyeing the strangely familiar Witch. "I'd like to see you try."

Expecting the Witch to try to do what she threatened, Fenrir was rather insulted when he realized she was no longer paying him any attention. Once upon a time nobody would have dared to take their eyes off him, even if he had been chained to a chair at the time. "That fucker. That goddamned ginger fucker! I'm going to kill him!" The pink-haired Witch continued to rant and rave about what she was going to do to that _ginger fucker_ for so long that Fenrir figured she was the mate of a Werewolf and had been portkeyed out of danger.

"Where the hell am I?" she suddenly demanded, whirling to face him. "And why in Merlin's name are _you_ here?!"

"Hogwarts and I'm a prisoner for everyone's protection – including my own. I came here voluntarily, so I would appreciate it if you could be the slightest bit kinder."

"If you were the slightest bit worth it, I might."

"Don't give me that sanctimonious bullshit," Fenrir growled like a feral animal, his wolf coming to the surface as he strained to break free of his chains. "Everyone makes mistakes. I joined Voldemort to help my people get rights in this forsaken shithole of a world. He was the only one that would pay us any attention or show us any kind of respect...at the time. I didn't expect – or want, for that matter – to be turned into a man-eating monster." His voice trailed off and he mumbled two more words as he glowered down at his lap, "silly cow."

He almost bit his tongue clean off when the Witch's hand collided harshly with his face, catching him by surprise. "Ouch," he said for the second time that day and spat a globule of blood and spit off to the side. "Now, are you going to tell me why you appeared out of nowhere, when I wasn't expecting to get any visitors?"

"My friend's wedding was attacked," the Witch answered with a sigh, sliding down the length of a wall to sit on the floor. Fenrir wondered why she did not just conjure a chair, because he could tell she was armed with her wand. "There were Death Eaters and Werewolves everywhere..." She rubbed her abdomen absently as she glowered at the wall opposite her. "If that ginger fucker dies I'm going to resurrect him...just so that I can beat the crap out of him."

"You're a feisty one," Fenrir mused, closing his eyes and wishing it had been his own mate that had landed in his lap. "Whatever wolf picked you; he did himself a service. Your pups will be natural leaders."

"Stop talking like that."

"Why?" he asked, opening his eyes once more. He looked over at the pink-haired Witch, only to see her gazing at him in soft horror.

"Because you're freaking me out."

Fenrir snorted. "Obviously me being kind is scarier to you than me trying to rip your face off. That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you, so much." There was only a subtle hint of sarcasm, but it was enough for the pink-haired Witch. For several moments she forgot about the attack as her body heaved with the strength of her silent laughter...

θθθ

Harry was not, at all, surprised when Severus punched Regulus in the face upon being revived from unconsciousness. "You little bastard," Severus hissed, his face red and blotchy from the power of his rage. Regulus looked up from he lay, sprawled across the floor after being knocked off his feet by the force of Severus' swing. "I _mourned_ you! I mourned you for more than a bloody decade and you suddenly decide to waltz back into my life?! How in the name of Merlin could you do that to me?!" Severus demanded of him, his anger fading to fractured pain in a matter of moments.

Harry moved to his side and touched Severus' arm lightly. The man turned his head and looked at Harry and that seemed to calm him a little. Harry slipped his arms around him and buried his face in Severus' shoulder. Instinctually, the man wrapped an arm around him, squeezing him closer. Then, in a much quieter voice than previously, Severus asked two questions, though all of them could tell his emotions were buried, not gone. "Why did you stay away? And what made you decide to come back? I think, being your friend, I have the right to know the answer to those questions."

Harry turned his head, so that he could look at Regulus and still remain close to Severus. Nodding, Regulus sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw gingerly. "Good thing I rolled with that punch," he said, almost to himself. "You might have dislocated my jaw if I hadn't."

"It would have been no less than you deserved for what you've put me through," Severus replied, his tone like ice. He and Harry seated themselves on the couch, the latter snuggling against the former, and Regulus took the armchair. Merlin stood off to the side, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his torso. The blonde man looked as though it was all very entertaining to him and Harry did not doubt that it was. And so the evening continued, with Regulus talking in a quiet voice, staring down at his hands.

Kreacher popped into existence sometime later – as if by instinct – offering refreshments...only to burst into tears at the sight of his Master Regulus. After their rather tearful reunion, the House-Elf sat with them, listening to the reformed Death Eater tell his tale. He had died that night in the lake. He was dead long enough for his bond with the House-Elf and the family estate to be severed, but somewhere between the life he had left behind and the existence he was heading towards, someone had given him the chance to return.

He took the chance to return, knowing that such a thing was exceedingly rare, but his return left him exceedingly weak. When he had managed to crawl out of the cave, he mustered the strength and the will to apparate to the nearest Muggle location. Regulus had not been able to risk being found by a Wizard, not when his left arm was burdened with the Dark Mark. An elderly couple found him while enjoying a stroll and had taken pity on him when they saw him clinging to a tree, just so that he could stand.

They were kind enough to take him in, allowing him to recuperate and when he was well enough...he just failed to leave. He started looking after them as they had looked after him, keeping his Wizarding Identity as secret as possible...and when they eventually passed away from natural causes, they left their house to him in their will. He continued to live there, unable to return to the Wizarding World, knowing the Death Eaters would have claimed responsibility for his death and showing up would be a mistake.

He had not planned to return...and then Merlin had shown up in his kitchen, informing him that there would be an attack upon the wedding of Bill Weasley. An inside man had been needed and Regulus had been a prime candidate, since Severus had been forcibly released from his duties the previous summer. Apparently, Merlin had known where he was the entire time and had opted to say nothing, believing he was safer if his death was continued to be assumed by the Wizarding community.

At this point, it was a good time later into the night and Harry's eyes were growing heavy as he snuggled into Severus' side. He struggled to stay awake, but eventually Severus called a halt to Harry's struggles, giving Regulus and Merlin permission to kip in the room that was officially Harry's. Harry and Severus retired to the master bedroom. They did not make love that night since there were guests, but neither would have wanted to, regardless. Too much had happened that night for them to enjoy themselves. Instead, they slept wrapped up in each other's arms, as if to ward off evil.

The following morning, the wards woke them, alerting them to the arrival of an unexpected guest. After hastily dressing, Harry virtually ran down the stairs to answer the door. Severus followed behind him at a more sedate pace. Pulling the door open, Harry was greeted by a solemn-faced McGonagall, whose eyes were slightly reddened, as if she had been crying at some point the previous evening. Her expression alone was evidence of a tragedy and, his stomach knotting horribly, Harry took a step back, swallowing thickly.

Harry bumped into Severus, who had come up behind him. Severus' hand found his lower arm, gripping lightly but firmly. "Who?" Severus asked quietly, voicing the question Harry was unable to.

McGonagall took a breath and said, "I think it would be best if we had this conversation where chairs are nearby." Severus inclined his head and led Harry into the living room, with McGonagall following along behind them, as straight-backed as ever, though she clutched a handkerchief tightly in her hand. The three of them seated themselves, making themselves as comfortable as possible. Then, after a moment of silence, McGonagall informed them of what happened. "Albus died in the battle last night," she said, her voice cracking as tears welled in her eyes. "He was hit in the back with _Sectumsempra_, while he was invading Bellatrix's mind."

Harry stared at his Head of House, unable to believe her words. Automatically, his mind tried to find some weakness in her statement, trying to prove to himself that she was lying to them. Beside him, Severus lost any colour that had remained in his skin. McGonagall continued speaking, raising her handkerchief to her eyes, dabbing at her cheeks. "I didn't reach him in time to save him before he bled out," she confessed and Harry could tell it took every ounce of her strength to say those words. "But he managed to impart some final words when I was trying to stop the bleeding."

Harry leaned forward slightly, wrapping one arm around his middle, while covering his mouth with his free hand. He felt as though he would be sick, but he knew he needed to stay. To hear Dumbledore's last words. Harry knew that, regardless of what they might first appear to be, his words would have a monumental impact for the war effort. McGonagall took a breath and blew her nose lightly, before continuing. Harry waited on baited breath, fighting the vomit that tried to come up his throat. "His words were: Tell Harry – Vault Three-Hundred-and-Five."

"That's it?" Severus demanded of her, flabbergasted in his own way, even as Harry rose from the couch, fleeing the room. Harry collided with Regulus on his way towards the front door, but did not spare the man a word as he pushed passed him, exiting the house in a hurry. Harry was streaking across the grounds outside the cottage when he next heard Severus' voice, calling after him. But he did not wait up; instead, he continued towards the edge of the cliff, which jutted out over the sea.

With a sob, Harry leapt over the edge, swan-diving down into the waiting sea. It was cold, so cold it stabbed at him like a thousand knives, all over his body. Reflex caused him to inhale sharply, though his brain told him not to. The ice-cold water flooded into him and his chest filled with pain. He started to struggle to reach the surface, the pain overpowering him. Spots were appearing before his eyes and he knew he was not going to make it. His thoughts were just fading into darkness when a shadow loomed over him and an arm wrapped itself tightly around him, pulling him towards the surface.

It wasn't long at all until he was lying on the beach, soaked to the bone, though he could hardly feel the chill invading his bones. He was hardly aware of anything but the pain in his lungs and the growing darkness in his head. There were hands on his chest, compressing...a mouth on his, breathing the breath of life...and suddenly he was surging upwards, water spilling from his mouth as his body was wracked with the harshest of coughs. A gentle hand brushed a lock of his hair out of his eyes, while a contradictory hand gripped his jaw, turning his head, forcing him to meet the eyes of his rescuer.

Severus was kneeling over him, eyebrows knitted together as he scowled down at Harry, clearly enraged. "Fool," the man hissed furiously, before drawing him into a tight embrace, the likes of which he had never given Harry before. It was as if Severus was trying to merge with him and the sentiment behind it was prominent in Harry's mind as he feebly hugged him back. Severus kissed the top of his head. "Don't. You. Ever. Do. That. To. Me. Again. You. Hear. Me?" the stern professor ground out through clenched teeth.

Harry managed to rasp out a positive answer, before closing his eyes and burying his face into the man's shoulder. The grief that had driven him into the water – the cold would have been good for achieving clarity of mind – had returned full force and a choked sob escaped him. The more time passed, the more fiercely he clung to Severus as he gave into his mourning. "It's my fault," Harry rasped after a time, the words hardly discernible due to the phlegm now beginning to clog his throat. "He was getting the information I needed and he was killed for it!"

"The information you needed?" Severus queried and Harry could tell the man was frowning harshly.

Harry pulled back, wiping his wet face with a wet hand as he nodded. He glanced around surreptitiously and casted a_ Muffliato_. "We figured that if anyone would be trusted with a Horcrux, it would be Bellatrix. He was searching her mind for the location, I think. I just hope she didn't notice, because we need time to prepare for invading Gringotts – that place has security I can't even imagine!" Harry burst into laughter that seemed half-hysterical and half-bitter. "It's a good thing we have Bill; he can help in a way that won't incriminate him. We'll need all the help we can get."

Severus snorted. "Don't worry; Dumbledore knows how to rape a mind and be discreet at the same time. Mind Magic is his greatest skill."

"Was," Harry corrected quietly – almost inaudibly, in fact.

"Indeed," the man replied, his tone grave. Severus got to his feet, pulling Harry with him. "Come along, then. Dumbledore wouldn't want you to wallow, not while there are plans to be made." Holding Harry to him securely, Severus disapparated and the pair of them popped into existence at the top of the cliff. Pulling Harry along with him, the man marched towards the cottage, glancing sideways at Harry. "Harry...do you remember the gift I gave you for Christmas?" he asked quietly.

"Of course."

"Well...that was only the first half. I was going to give you the second half, too, but you passed out and I couldn't ask Miss Weasley to stay indefinitely." Here, Harry looked at him as if he had three heads, but the man continued, getting the explanation out as quickly as possible. "I've been meaning to give you the second half...but I waited, wanting to give you some time to just enjoy your holidays because it has something to do with the war effort...but I should probably give it to you as soon as possible. Now that we know only Dumbledore was a casualty of last night's battle, we know that the Weasleys are safe. I will be asking Miss Weasley to come over as soon as we get inside – she's the only one capable of helping me give you the second half of your gift."

Severus opened the front door and pulled him inside. "Harry, Severus...I didn't only come to tell you about Dumbledore," McGonagall said, strained, as she peeked her head around the living room door. "There's more... I would have told you if you hadn't run off..."

"More?" Harry asked, eyes widening. "Who else?!"

"Miss Lovegood, Rolf Scamander and Garrick Ollivander are unaccounted for and_ Location Charms _have not revealed their whereabouts."

Harry staggered under the weight of this revelation...

To Be Continued...

What do you think?


	13. Chapter 13

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Thirteen.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Note: Thanks for reviews and support and everything, guys!

Chapter Thirteen

Staggering upon hearing McGonagall's words, Harry was unable to believe it. He did not want to do so. The mere thought of Luna...that dreamy-minded girl...being at the mercy of the Darkest Wizard of the Age was not something that Harry could stomach. Even being the strong witch that he knew she was...being Voldemort's prisoner was nothing to laugh at. This was the second time one of his loved ones had been taken captive – and only a few short weeks since the first time. He reached up with one hand and gripped his hair tightly, as if doing so could pull him from this nightmare.

But he did not wake from a comfortable slumber, to find himself wrapped up in Severus' arms. No, everything that had happened since he had woken up was true. Luna was a hostage and Dumbledore was dead. The paragon of light that the old man had become had been extinguished by a man too cowardly to face him head-on. Hogwarts, now without a Headmaster, would be at risk of an attack while the defences were weakened. "Severus," he said suddenly, his tone sharp, causing the man who was holding him since he had staggered to look at him. "Hogwarts needs to be protected."

"Yes," McGonagall conformed, nodding her head stiffly. "I came to collect you, Severus."

"Whatever for?"Severus demanded, scowling fiercely as the woman started manhandling him, dragging him towards the fireplace in the living room.

"The Order and the staff are convening at the school – I've sent patronuses to everyone involved in the selection process. We need to find a Headmaster or mistress dedicated to keeping the school safe, but that person has to be chosen by the gargoyle outside the Headmaster's office. I'm not arrogant enough to assume the school will choose me just because I was the deputy. Come along, now; we haven't got all day!" She picked up a fistful of floo powder and then gave them both a sharp, red-eyed look. "We will talk about your..._guest_...later."

Harry gave her an innocent look, while Severus merely stared at her, expressionless. Then, with all grace and dignity that she possessed, she floo-ed out of their cottage, to Hogwarts. Sighing, Severus and Harry followed almost right behind her. Upon their arrival in McGonagall's office, the three of them made their way through the castle, towards the Headmaster's now vacant office. As they ascended through the castle, they were joined by Remus and his mate, almost the entire brood of graduated Weasleys, the Longbottoms, Moody, the Prewetts and every other Order and staff member available. As well as a familiar but shocking face.

"What are you doing here?" Severus demanded of the Half-Vampire with lavender-tipped white messy hair, scowling fiercely at him.

Lorcan d'Eath smirked and tossed his hair out of his eyes. "Albus inducted me into the Order two days ago, if you must know. I figured I should do my part. I can't let you have _all _the fun."

"Do you really think the gargoyle would put a Vampire in charge of a school full of innocent children?" Severus asked, his tone carrying the slightest bit of ice.

D'Eath's lips thinned. "Half-Vampire."

"A half too much," the stern professer said, his lip curling into a sneer.

"Sev!" Harry said in a chiding tone, picking up pace as Severus did the same. "That was cruel. Just because he has dark blood in him, it doesn't mean he's dangerous. For all you know, he could have amazing self-restraint."

"One drop of blood," Severus ground out through his clenched jaw, "that's all it takes. Even a Half-Vampire, like him, can't resist the siren call of blood once it's been spilled. What if a student cut himself shaving? Or a glass broke and sliced a girl's hand open? There are too many variables for it to be safe enough for a part-Vampire to be in charge of running a school."

"He has as much of a right to try for the position of Headmaster as you do, even if he doesn't get it," Harry retorted. "He never even said he wanted the position. He's only here because the rest of the Order is here. You don't need to be a git towards him."

"I'm a git towards everyone, not just him."

"No shit," Harry muttered, just as they all rounded the corner that would take them to the base of the Headmaster's Tower. The gargoyle was waiting for them, staring unseeing, unblinking, out at them. It was as if it knew they were there, but could not see them, no matter how hard it tried. They gathered around the entrance, getting comfortable, finding places where they could all see. Then, her back straight and her head held high, McGonagall stepped forward to be tested by the gargoyle.

Harry watched, fascinated, as McGonagall reached out and pressed her hand firmly to the gargoyle's forehead. For several moments nothing happened and then McGonagall jerked her hand back, hissing in pain. The palm of her hand was blistering, as if it had been burnt by a hot iron. It was clear that McGonagall had not been accepted as Headmistress of the school. Godric took her place as the woman moved away from the gargoyle. Having been a Headmaster before, the man was pretty confident...until he earned the same results that she had.

Lord Slytherin, smirking in amusement at the expression on Godric's face, went next. But he was also a negative candidate for the position. Lady Hufflepuff and Lady Ravenclaw had similar results. Distinctly put out, the Founders watched as the Order members and members of staff began touching the gargoyle, one by one. They all received the exact same results, until there was only one adult remaining. Everyone turned to look at Severus expectantly, which just made the man curl his lip into a sneer.

Scowling fiercely at them all – for it was clear he did not want the position – Severus strode forward and rested his hand against the gargoyle's forehead. For several moments nothing happened and he was about to smirk and say he was not viable, but then the air around his hand shimmered and suddenly an explosion of magical energy raced through the school, with his hand at the epicentre. Uttering a string of loud expletives, Severus jerked his hand away from the gargoyle, which seemed to be smiling benignly at him.

Harry knew that this was somehow Dumbledore's doing. He did not know whether to be angry that Severus had been suckered into a position he did not want...or amazed that Dumbledore had managed to orchestrate something that would happen after his passing – whenever the old man had thought it might occur. With the new Headmaster chosen, the members of staff that were not involved with the Order began to leave, grumbling about seniority. McGonagall moved to stand in front of Severus, the slightest smile on her face. She extended her hand towards him. "Congratulations...Headmaster."

"I hate you," Severus growled, his dark eyes brimming with thinly veiled anger.

McGonagall, normally so prim and proper, allowed herself a small chuckle. "I know, dear boy, I know." She cleared her throat and looked around at everyone who had gathered. "Now that all of this has been settled, we will need to start...making arrangements. Aberforth...if you're up to it...I need you to go the Ministry and handle the paperwork – they will proceed to deal with Gringotts and the matter of his will. If you're not up to it, I'm sure Kingsley would be willing to do so."

Aberforth, who had been reluctant to touch the gargoyle, gave her a sharp look. "No one but kin should deal with death certificates," he said, gruffly. Even though he had not been on good terms with his brother, Harry could tell that the death of Albus had been a sharp blow, regardless. Of course, it would be. Blood was much thicker than water, after all. Straight-backed, Aberforth walked away from the gargoyle, leaving them all behind on his journey to the Ministry of Magic.

"Kingsley, are you willing to go to Headquarters to take the necessary measurements?" The dark-skinned Auror nodded solemnly and hurried off to do her bidding – Harry had to assume that she was now in charge of the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore had been laid out in Grimmauld Place, more than likely upon the kitchen table, just as Petunia had been the night she had been killed at Privet Drive. "Nymphadora, if you could please go to the Undertaker?" The pink-haired Witch nodded and waddled away.

"Molly, Alice, Hestia, Emmeline, take this." McGonagall reached into her robe pockets and withdrew a leather-bound notebook, which looked even more worn than Riddle's diary had. "This...is Albus' journal. Within it is mention of every person Albus ever befriended or cared about. Those who are still alive will have to be notified. There are many names...please, feel free to choose others to help you." The four women, with the journal in hand, marched off to inform people of their loss.

"Arthur, Benjamin, Frank, I need the three of you to source out a trustworthy Funeral Minister for Albus' service in three days time. It will be held at Hogwarts; he always wanted to be buried on its ground, ever since he had first attended the school in his boyhood." Harry felt a pang in his heart. He knew that feeling. He knew it well. Was it possible that Hogwarts had been as much of a home to Dumbledore in his youth as it had been for Harry? Harry felt that it was, indeed, utterly possible and it would not have surprised him. Hogwarts had become home to so many people in its long lifetime and would continue to do so, in the future, if it survived the war.

"Bill, Fleur, Charlie, we'll need flower arrangements. Hop to it." Grunting about how he could be taming Dragons, Charlie hurried off after his elder brother and sister-in-law. This left very few Order members standing in the corridor, awaiting instructions. "Fred, George, I need the pair of you to organise extra refreshments, that the House-Elves won't be able to supply – Firewhiskey, Butterbeer, etcetera." Under normal circumstances, they might have replied with _wicked_, but now...now they were rather sedate.

"Now, I must send letters to the students and inform them of what has happened. The train will be there at King's Cross, should students wish to travel up and attend the funeral. I can't think of much else that needs doing, so...you can probably be on your way," she said to the rest of the Order, decidedly not looking at Severus. "Severus," McGonagall said sharply as Severus started walking away, pulling Harry along with him. Severus stilled but did not turn around. "You'll need to write a speech for the ceremony."

The stern professor uttered a wordless growl and continued walking away. Severus was...extremely unhappy and Harry knew that was saying something. Harry linked his arm around Severus' elbow and stepped closer to his side. The man grunted, but Harry could tell he was grateful. "Do you want me to help you with your speech?" he asked, looking up at the man's face.

"If I wanted to make a fool of myself, I would of course accept your offer," Severus said, a sneer tugging at his upper lip.

Harry sighed. "What am I going to do with you, you ass?"

"Nothing you haven't done with me previously." Harry snorted and leaned into his side. They floo-ed back to the cottage from Severus' old office. Understandably, Severus did not yet want to set foot in the Headmaster's office. Regulus and Merlin were both waiting for them, with a pot of tea and a cup of coffee for Severus. It was just what the times called for. "I expect Minerva will visit again sometime this evening, to demand explanations for why you still exist," Severus said, sipping at his coffee as the lot of them settled around the kitchen table.

"I look forward to it," Regulus responded, but the cringe on his face said otherwise.

"I'm sure," Severus murmured.

After a time, Regulus said softly, "is it true?"

"What?"

"Albus?"

"Yes," Severus answered gravely.

"And who's his replacement as Headmaster?"

Severus' lip curled. "I am."

Regulus devolved into a coughing fit after nearly choking on his tea. "Merlin, help them."

"I'll try," the Half-Demon said, smirking in amusement.

"That wasn't what I meant," Regulus said scathingly.

"Thank you for your shining assessment of my skills," Severus interjected to bring Regulus and Merlin's banter to a close. He glowered at Regulus, who merely buried his face in his mug of tea, to hide his grin. "Albus has passed on and Miss Lovegood and two others have been taken captive," he continued sternly, scowling down at his coffee. "This is not a time for silly grins and asinine conversation." He ran a hand back through his dark hair and let his breath out on a harsh sigh.

"So, we'll plan instead," Regulus said, a strange gleam in his eye...

θθθ

Luna sat at the base of her dungeon wall. Rolf Scamander and Ollivander were at the other side, huddled together. The younger had his arm wrapped around the elder, to give him some extra warmth. That was both clever and understandable. The dungeon in which they were being held captive was dank and dirty and a draft would slip in beneath the door every now and then. Luna had a distinct feeling that the cold would be used as some form of torture, but she had no way to be certain until a Death Eater proved it.

Luna gazed down at her boot-clad feet, her fellow captives visible in her peripheral vision. Focusing, she allowed her magic to expand from within her, feeling the area. She could not discern any _Surveillance Charms_ on the dungeon. But she did not take that as fact...they could either be expertly cloaked or were charms that did not officially exist. There were other enchantments in place, not only the darkest of Magics for causing harm, but simple anti-apparition wards. She widened her field of sensory perception, allowing her magic to extend beyond the dungeon, feeling for tell-tale swirls of magic, which would belong to a Witch or a Wizard.

She found none. The castle was empty save for the three of them. She withdrew quickly and allowed her mind to extrapolate possible reasons. The first explanation that came to mind was that Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters did not consider them much of a threat. That was not only likely, but highly insulting. However, if that was the case, she would do her best to make them feel stupid for underestimating them. The other possibility was that Voldemort was employing creatures to keep guard, which was not much of a stretch either.

She let out a sigh and lifted her gaze, to find Rolf eyeing her from the other side of the dungeon. "Are you alright?" he asked, frowning slightly. "You looked a bit dazed for a moment, there..."

Luna smiled that dreamy smile of hers and could not help but compare the concern on the man's face to that of a puppy. "I was testing their defence levels." Rolf stared at her, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. He was clearly surprised that a school student could do such a thing or would risk it. "There's a reason the hat put me in Ravenclaw." She smiled again, earning a slight quirk of his mouth in return. "The best thing about there being a war, Mr Scamander, is that even an underage Witch, like me, can use magic outside of Hogwarts during extenuating circumstances. Wouldn't you say this was one of those circumstances?"

Rolf inclined his head, conceding to her point. Quietly, Luna continued speaking. "Mr Ollivander, you and I were taken for a reason. I'm assuming the reasoning behind your abduction has something to do with wands. As for myself...I'd imagine it's because I'm close to Harry Potter." Her dreamy blue eyes landed on Rolf. "You, Mr Scamander, seem to be...excess baggage." Rolf scowled and opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. "I didn't mean it as an insult. I just mean...you weren't taken for any obvious purpose. Acting up could get you killed quicker than either of us..."

For some time after that, silence reigned until finally Rolf said, "you're much different to the way you were at the wedding. At the wedding, you'd seemed to be more of a...a wanderer."

Luna smiled at him softly from across the dungeon, her eyes drifting half-closed as she leaned her head back against the stone wall. She did not notice the way his adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed or how his eyes seemed to trace the curve of her jaw...and even if she had, she would have said nothing about it. Captivity effected people differently; she was quite aware of that fact. "Not all those who wander are lost." With that, she closed her eyes and allowed her head to be filled with images of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks...

To Be Continued.

"Not all those who wander are lost" is a quote by JRR Tolkien. I own nothing.


	14. Chapter 14

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Fourteen.

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's notes: Thanks for reading and reviewing guys! And sorry for the delay! Now, on with the show!

Chapter Fourteen

Harry, Severus and Regulus spent hours at the kitchen table in their cottage, with maps strewn across its surface, held down by empty cups. Merlin had gone home as soon as they started planning, because while he could help indirectly, he could not officially take a side. Harry thought it was a shame; he was certain the ancient Half-Demon Wizard would have been a wonderful addition to their team. Harry was staring into the contents of his mug of tea, while Severus and Regulus argued in the background, when it hit him.

The SHIELD ring.

The ring had been enchanted to summon members of their group and aid apparition, where wards normally prevented such things. It allowed them to slip through the tiniest cracks. Remembering it felt like a slap in the face and a knee in the groin. He felt both horrible and wonderful simultaneously. With his ring he could help Luna escape the clutches of Voldemort and his Death Eaters...but it would be instantaneous. There would be no chance for Rolf Scamander or Ollivander to grab her and escape with her – especially if they were being held in different dungeons or were on opposing sides of a room.

There were two options. He could twist his ring and get Luna out of there, leaving Scamander and Ollivander in captivity without her. Or he could leave her in captivity with them until such a time that they could all be rescued at the same time. His mind deliberated, but his heart already knew the answer. Taking a sip of his tea, he glared down at his ring and said nothing as Regulus and Severus continued arguing beside him. And the day, painfully slow as it was, wore on and on.

The three of them were forced to stop for dinner by an insistent Kreacher, who made French Onion Soup for them, followed by a hearty roast beef with all of its accompanying sides. On the whole, it was not too bad of a meal. They planned for a few more hours, but Harry eventually succumbed to weariness and fell asleep at the table, his head covering Scotland. He woke in the middle of the night, to find himself curled up in Severus' arms, clearly having been transported there sometime after he had fallen asleep.

Harry snuggled closer to the man, whose arms tightened around him and drifted back to sleep. His dreams were plagued with images of torture, but he knew these ones were of his own making. He could feel nothing from Voldemort when he had those dreams and when he woke his scar was not affecting him in any way. It both relieved and horrified him that while they were not visions, they seemed so real, as vivid as if they were happening right before his very eyes. That his mind could imagine such horrors did not soothe him in the slightest.

Breakfast the following morning was a rather quiet affair and, almost immediately after its conclusion, Harry, Severus and Regulus returned to their efforts of making plans. To Harry, the plans seemed half-cocked, but that really did not surprise him, considering how early it was in the game. Nevertheless, the two older men put their best efforts into making these plans, with Harry piping in with suggestions every now and then. Harry allowed them to do more of the work, because they were seasoned warriors in comparison to him. He was not as experienced as they were, though he had seen his fair share of dark times.

They grudgingly took a break at lunchtime, by order of McGonagall, who floo-ed in because she found it necessary to inform Severus he had several responsibilities waiting for him at the school, even if the students were not currently in attendance. Regulus and Harry un-winded by playing a few games of Exploding Snap and Wizard Chess, while Severus headed to Hogwarts, to take care of business. Severus' business, it turned out, involved answering mail from people who were congratulating him on becoming Headmaster and reprimanding Peeves, who had taken to knocking over the suits of armour.

Harry and Regulus discussed Severus' position as Headmaster while they played their games, waiting for the dour man to return. The thought of Peeves, that mischievous little blighter, being answerable to Severus Snape made the pair of them smirk in amusement. They were chuckling about all the situations Severus would have to deal with as Headmaster, when said man finally returned to the cottage, looking grouchier than ever before. He glared them into silence with exceptional speed.

Harry hid a small smile behind a cup of tea, shaking his head slightly, before indicating that they should get back to their planning. They did so, with very little hesitation. They were joined some time later that day by Godric, Lord Slytherin and the other two of the Founders. Each of them wanted to help bring Luna and the others back from the Dark Lord's clutches – not only because it was the right thing to do, but because Slytherin wanted to make Voldemort realize he was not the all-powerful Wizard he thought himself to be.

He wanted Voldemort to realize there would always be a fault in his plan or defences. There would always be someone who would foil his every attempt at being in control of any given situation. There would always be someone to fight back. There would always be someone who would defeat him, regardless of whom they were or how powerful they were. Oh, yes, Lord Slytherin wanted nothing more than to beat that knowledge into his descendant's head, to make him see the folly of his ways.

Harry knew, without a doubt, the blonde Founder would eventually succeed in the endeavour; the man was just that determined to do so. Harry felt that was a good trait to have with them, as they planned. With a higher rate of determination, their chances of success rose a great deal. Harry spoke to the blonde man beside him at every opportunity, oblivious to the dark looks Severus was sending their way...

θθθ

Luna sat huddled up at the corner of dungeon chamber. Rolf and Ollivander were doing the same not too far away. Luna was rather unable to take her eyes off them, though she kept her gaze discrete. She had a feeling they knew they were being watched, however, even if they were keeping decidedly silent on the matter. It was just that she found the pair of them so intriguing. Sometimes, the pair of them seemed as close as any grandfather and grandchild would be, but other times it was as if they had been estranged for a while before the Second Wizarding War started.

It was odd. Perhaps Ollivander had been offended that his grandson had wanted to be a magizoologist rather than a wand maker. If that were true, it would no doubt seem trivial to them now, as they sat in the dungeon, waiting for whatever future that waited for them. Luna shook her head fractionally and stared down at her hands, which had steadily become caked with dirt since her forced incarceration in their dungeon cell. Luna sighed and rested her head against the wall behind her.

She stayed like that for some time, until a noise in the distance startled her into alertness. There was someone coming down the corridor towards them...and they meant business. Luna was on her feet before they had even reached the door. Seeing how tense she was, Rolf and Ollivander followed suit. The three of them watched the door to the dungeon cell, bracing themselves against the wall, should the person approaching be Lord Voldemort himself. A key rattled into door and then the door opened.

Standing in the doorway was a rather tall, robust man, with a mop of pale blonde hair, drawn back into a ponytail. He had very blunt features and an unpleasant smile. Luna was certain that this was the Death Eater, Yaxley. "You," he said, pointing at Ollivander, "are coming with me." Like a frightened lamb, Ollivander looked at his grandson, before shuffling forward towards the Death Eater waiting for him. It was clear that Ollivander wanted to try to appease them by behaving.

Luna could not let them take him, however. "No, he's not going anywhere," Luna said sharply, stepping hurriedly forward, preventing Ollivander from getting closer to Yaxley, despite the shocked exclamations from everyone involved. "Take me in his stead," she continued calmly. "Ollivander is nowhere near as valuable as I am. Not only am I member of the previously named Dumbledore's Army, I am also a close friend of Harry Potter's and Professor Snape's. I am privy to information that would give your Lord wet dreams."

Yaxley looked mildly disgusted by her words, but the soft conviction in them left little room for doubt. There was a moment of indecision, and then Yaxley grabbed her arm and hauled Luna towards the door. The Ravenclaw girl barely had time to look over her shoulder and wink at her fellow captives, to let them know that it was all a part of the plan – as strange as it seemed – before the dungeon door was slammed shut and locked once more. Yaxley, his face contorted in a snarl, virtually dragged Luna along behind him.

They seemed to walk forever, before they finally reached their destination; a secluded room on the third floor of the building. Luna had made sure to keep an eye on the layout of the building, however, for when she and the others eventually made an escape attempt. Yaxley shoved her through the door and she landed hard on the floor, her arms the only thing preventing her nose from slamming against the stone. Grunting in a rather un-Luna-like fashion, Luna turned pushed up off the ground and turned to face the Death Eater who had brought her to that room. Yaxley whipped out his wand from an inside pocket and the briefest glimpse of the pocket showed that he had hers on his person as well.

Luna's eyes narrowed slightly and thickened her plan even as Yaxley levelled the wand at her, pointing right between her eyes. "Look at me," he commanded harshly. Smirking internally, Luna complied without argument. She met his gaze head on. The Death Eater smirked, the expression looking quite ridiculous on his face, quite unlike when Professor Snape smirked. "_Legilimens_!" Yaxley's eyes became like blue tunnels and then suddenly the man was in her mind, but Luna was not afraid. She knew she could handle this. She had been teaching herself Occlumency since a young age; it had come almost naturally to her and now it would do her a great service...

θθθ

_A barren landscape met the Death Eater when he entered the Blood Traitor's mind. He blinked in surprise and looked around, searching for an indication of trickery. Legilimency was not meant to work in the manner that it clearly had. It was not meant to transport him into the recesses of the victim's mind. It was meant to be a window, not a portal. "Confused?" said a dreamy voice from behind him. Yaxley whirled around, searching for his wand and finding himself unarmed._

_A vein throbbed in his forehead as rage flooded through him. The straggly-haired blonde Witch had his wand in her hand. She flashed him a grin, her blue-grey eyes rather stormy in that moment. Suddenly the landscape around them was no longer barren; instead, a vast jungle seemed to stretch out around them, blocking out the sun, casting them into darkness. There was a flick of blonde hair and the Blood Traitor disappeared into the thick of the Jungle, leaving him staring after her in complete shock._

_It took only a few seconds for Yaxley to come to his senses. His mouth contorting in a snarl, Yaxley took off after her, shoving branches and leaves out of the way. After some time he was convinced that he had lost track of the strange Ravenclaw girl. He continued in the direction had thought the girl had moved in, only to stop suddenly at the sound of twig snapping somewhere behind him. He sucked in a breath, nibbling his lower lip, and several beads of sweat built on his forehead._

_Slowly, Yaxley turned around, assuming that the girl had slipped behind him somehow. But he was wrong. It was not the girl that had been behind him. No, it was a beast. It looked rather like a rhinoceros, but it was larger with three horns, getting progressively bigger as they approached the end of its snout. Its black eyes landed on him and a puff of breath escaped its nostrils. Yaxley stood, transfixed, staring at it. He had a feeling he knew what the creature was, but the name was lost in his terror. _

_It pawed the ground beneath its feet and that was the catalyst. Yaxley turned tail and ran. He thought he was going to escape and then an animal-cry sounded behind him. The beast thundered after him, the ground shuddering violently with its every step. A strangled sound of panic escaped him and he veered to the right, to get out of the wild animal's path. He knew very well that if the beast caught up with him, he was a dead man. Or a living man with no mind, which, to him, was just as bad, if not worse. _

_However, his path was blocked by another creature. This one was something he had never seen before. It had the body of a human, yet its entirety had been taken over by flames. Yaxley had no idea how it was not screaming and falling to the ground in absolute agony. Yaxley fled in the opposite direction, only to be confronted by a swarm of glowing insects that hummed remarkably like wasps. They were closing in on him, on all sides, leaving him no room to escape from their clutches._

_The wasp-like creatures swarmed towards him, buzzing loudly as they circled his head. Panicking, he started swatting at them with both hands, which only seemed to enrage them. He started back away and the fiery creature caught him, wrapping its enflamed hands around his arms. He began struggling as agony rippled through him. The flames licked at his clothes, his skin. He shrieked in torment, fighting in vain. There was absolutely no escape for him now; his mind was utterly lost..._

θθθ

Luna blinked, her vision momentarily blurred as Yaxley lost all function, falling to the ground in a bedraggled heap in front of her, his wand skittering across the floor as his hand went slack. Sighing softly, she crossed the room towards the fallen Death Eater. Dropping to her knees, she began checking for vital signs, which she had learned about when reading a book over the Christmas holidays. The man was alive, but there was nothing registering, even when she waved her hand in front of his eyes, which stared listlessly through her.

Quickly, she pushed open the man's robes, searching for the inner pocket in which he kept her wand. When she found it, she wrapped her hand around it and felt that tingle of magic as a flood of relief coursed through her. She hugged her wand to her chest for a moment, before holding it in her left as she pressed her right palm to it. "_Geminio_," she murmured, effortlessly duplicating her wand. She slipped the fake wand into the pocket from which she had stolen the original and slipped her real one into a hidden pocket in the hem of her dress robes.

Smirking to herself, she settled at the edge of the room, leaning against the wall, waiting for them to be found. It would take time to fully realize a plan, but now that she had her wand back she felt ten times safer than she had previously. She rubbed the hidden pocket surreptitiously and relaxed as much as possible while she waited. She knew that there would be reprisal when they were found, but she also knew that she was quite able to handle whatever was dished to her. People might think she was a lunatic, but she was as strong-willed as any lioness.

When they were eventually found, by Rabastan Lestrange, the enraged questioning had begun immediately. Luna was completely honest with him, informing him that his fallen comrade had made the mistake of trying to invade her mind without her consent. Explaining to him in quiet words, she watched as disbelief and dawning horror crept across the man's worn face. "You cannot possibly be so skilled at Occlumency," Rabastan growled, fear edging its way into his voice as he stared at her.

"Why not? I'm as much of a Pureblood as you are," she said calmly, "and even if I weren't, that's not credible proof against it. Hermione Granger is the brightest and strongest Witch of the age and she, by all accounts, has less magical lineage than you or I do. On top of that, I'm a Ravenclaw, which means a thirst for knowledge has been a trait of mine since I was a little girl. It's quite possible I could have been studying up on Occlumency from the beginning, knowing that one day...one day I might very well need such skills."

Her words seemed to convince him, but then he eyed her in suspicion. "Why didn't you attempt to escape after you took him out?"

Luna sighed, "because, stupid, I'm not the type to abandon my friends, in order to save my own hide. I am not a coward. I am not self-serving. I think about the survival of others, more than of my own, but I'm sure you know nothing of that kind of loyalty." She gave him a hard look. It earned her a slap, but she did not regret a single word...

To Be Continued. 


	15. Chapter 15

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Fifteen.

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and support and patience, guys! ^_^ Now, let's march onwards...

Chapter Fifteen

The prison at Nurmengard, on the outskirts of Germany, was quiet. It usually was, regardless of what time and day it was; there was only one person incarcerated within its walls. All the others had been released over the years and or had been put to death some time ago. The prison, built during the height of the Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald's reign, was a towering building. It seemed a grim fortress, jet black and forbidding to all who set eyes upon it. Carved upon the arch at the entrance of this building, were the words "For The Greater Good."

The guards of Nurmengard had been Dementors, just as they had been at Azkaban, but those creatures were long gone now. The lone prisoner, Gellert, could have escaped years ago, during the First Wizarding War, but he had chosen to remain. While the prison was certainly warded against Apparition and Portkeys, that still left him with many means of escape, given that he was only a shade less gifted than Albus Dumbledore had been and neither Azkaban nor Nurmengard could have easily kept such a man prisoner.

Gellert had had so many years to think about all the foul acts he had committed in his youth, but in truth the remorse he had been feeling had begun to set in when Albus had faced the hardest of memories and feelings, in order to stop him. That had been the turning point in his life and in his conscience; the realization that a man who had lost so much already, would risk killing the man he had loved...just to achieve peace...to put right, so many wrongs. Albus had loved him desperately; Gellert had known that since they were boys, filled with raging hormones, incredible intelligence and little sense.

Now, at the age of one-hundred and sixteen, he felt death waiting in the shadows, waiting for that moment when Gellert was at his weakest, ready to take him. Gellert was not going to give it the satisfaction, however; he would go down fighting or not at all. Gellert sighed and closed his eyes, resting his against the cold stone wall behind his head. Once upon a time, this small prison cell had been the most uncomfortable thing in the world, but after years of adapting to this new existence, he doubted he could sleep upon anything soft and warm even if he had been a free man.

He sat there for some time, alone and silent, as if the tiniest sound might shatter the scrap of peace that had settled upon the prison. He might very well have begun to drift off to sleep had something not disturbed him. His eyes snapped open as he jerked away from the wall, his body rigid as he listened carefully. He could hear the slap of boots against stone; someone was fast approaching his prison cell. A figure loomed out of the darkness, robes swirling about him, something thick clutched in one pale hand, a long staff held in the other.

Gellert's heart pounded painfully against his ribcage and his breath came in short fearful gasps. Had the Dark Lord Voldemort learned of the existence of the Elder Wand? Was he here, now, to discover its current location? Eyeing the shadowy figure before him, Gellert made a silent Wizard's Oath to never reveal the location to anyone with dark intent. He had learned from his mistakes; such a wand could never fall into the hands of men like Voldemort. Gellert would rather die than let that happen.

The figure stood there for several moments, seeming to stare at him, though Gellert could not see the person's eyes. Finally, with infuriatingly slow movements, the shadowy figure raised their arm and thrust that thick item at him. The sound of ruffled paper echoed down the dark corridor as it fell through the bars of his prison cell, landing on the stone floor before him. "Something of which you may yet be unaware," the figure stated calmly and, without another word, strode away from the cell, disappearing down the corridor.

With a shaking hand, Gellert reached for the item he could not quite see in the darkness. He brought it close to his face, allowing it to come into focus. He almost dropped the newspaper as soon as he had done so, however. It was a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, an English newspaper. On the front page was a picture of Albus Dumbledore in his office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stroking his Phoenix familiar as he twinkled at the camera. His heart clenched as he gazed at the picture. Time had treated Albus admirably well; he looked quite gentle and grandfatherly.

When he had had his fill of gazing at Albus, whom he knew he had wronged, but had loved him as passionately as Albus had him, he lifted his gaze to the headline. _Hogwarts Headmaster Heinously Killed. _The entire front page had been dedicated to the article about it. His heart stopped beating for an entire section, before kicking into high gear, trying to explode out of his chest. A vein in his forehead pulsed tellingly, though no one was around to see it. Perhaps, that was a good thing for in the next moment there was an explosion of magic.

The steel bars that had been used to keep him within his cell exploded outwards, impaling the opposite wall of the dark corridor, sending plumes of dust and crushed rock into the air around him. With an expression that spelled murder, Gellert Grindelwald stalked out of his prison cell, ignoring the emaciated state of his body and the way his black and white stripped prison robes hung loosely around his frame. With the newspaper held in a bony grip, the escaped convict and former Dark Lord slunk down the corridor and through the prison.

Though he was physically weakened, his magic had had a number of years to gather strength again, since the defection of the Dementors. He could escape Nurmengard with minimal difficulty, even if he encountered some human guards. There would be no stopping him, now that he had learned such a horrible truth about the man he had loved since he was but a boy of seventeen. He had a score to settle and any Wizard or Witch who got in his way would not survive if they put up a fight.

Luckily for them, however, he encountered no one during his escape. The human guards normally came to Nurmengard at meal times only, to shove an almost barren tray into his prison cell. Otherwise, they would rather not bother themselves with his presence. Even after so many years and losing so much body mass during incarceration, he still had the aura of a man who could snap you in half if you looked at him wrong. He caused the entryway of the prison to explode into a cascade of splinters, which he willed to settle harmlessly upon the ground, so that he would not cause himself injury.

Stepping out into the snow and cold winds, he wrapped his arms around his torso as he murmured a _Heating Charm_, to give him enough warmth to prevent death from frostbite or hypothermia. He brought one hand to his mouth and whistled, his magic causing the sound to reverberate around the region. Then, with the patience of a man who was running out of time, he started pacing around in circles, waiting for that which he had summoned to aid him on his journey. He could not apparate, because there was a tracker tied to his blood that alerted the International Confederation of Wizards if he tried to do such a thing.

But there were other means of travel that were just as good – and much more comfortable, in his opinion. It took some time, but his friend finally arrived, descending through the air, a rare black blur against a snow-filled sky. With a flurry of disturbed snow a Granian Winged Horse landed in front of him, bold and majestic and handsome, wings folding as the horse shook his head, his mane whipping about in the wind. While Winged Horses could live for almost two-hundred and fifty years, it had been a number of decades since Abastor had last been acquainted with him.

Gellert had feared Abastor had forgotten him, but when the winged steed came to him and nuzzled his face he knew his fears were stupid. Brushing his hand against the horse's muzzle, he moved around to the side of him and mounted Abastor with almost as much dexterity as he had in years past. Gellert leaned forward and wrapped his arms gently but firmly around Abastor's neck, securing himself in place for the flight ahead of him. "To Scotland," he breathed to his equine companion. "To Hogwarts."

Rearing back and letting out a neigh, Abastor fell into an almost immediate gallop. After a few feet, in spite of the wind and the snow that whirled around them, Gellert and his steed rose into the sky and made for the British Isles...

θθθ

To Harry it seemed as though Bill and Fleur's wedding had been only yesterday, but...in reality...three long days had passed. That morning found him dressing in his best tailored and most sombre robes, in preparation for Dumbledore's funeral, which would take place by the lake at Hogwarts, in an hour's time. At the other side of the bedroom, Severus was doing the same. Neither of them spoke, the reality of what was happening that day was so heavy a burden on the pair of them.

When they finished dressing, the pair of them left the main bedroom of the cottage, Thrasos following after them, letting out a mournful trill as he landed lightly on Harry's shoulder. He glanced up towards the black and silver feather bird and smiled appreciatively. He welcomed the familiar weight of his avian companion on his shoulder. The three of them descended the staircase and left the cottage. Once outside, Thrasos rose from Harry's shoulder and hovered, offering his tail feathers to the two Wizards who had claim to his loyalty and affection.

Harry and Severus wrapped their hands securely around a feather. With an explosion of black flames, the three of them disappeared from view, before reappearing in the same manner outside the gates of Hogwarts. Thrasos settled once more upon Harry's shoulder and in silence Harry and Severus passed through the gates of Hogwarts, slipping through the wards that welcomed their presence. In truth, Thrasos could have brought them directly to the lake, but both men needed time to sort their thoughts regarding what they would soon witness.

So, with their minds on the upcoming funeral, Harry and Severus traversed the school grounds, heading for the lake. Already, the area was prepared for the event. Rows and rows of chairs had been lined up, one side of the aisle for the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On the other side would sit representatives of the Ministry and a number of Magical Educational Facilities, such as Durmstrang, Beauxbaton, Salem Witches' Institute, Mahoutokoro and the Brazilian School Harry remembered Bill mentioning in his fourth year.

As well as those representatives on that side of the seating arrangement at the lakeside, there would be Order members, members of Hogwarts' staff and friends and relatives of Dumbledore's in attendance. There would also be a delegation from the International Confederation of Wizards, the European Department of Alchemical Discoveries, and the Vampire Community from Transylvania. The Vampire, Sanguini, which Harry remembered from Slughorn's Christmas party the previous year, and his friend, Eldred Worple, was present among that last group.

Each chair that had been set out for the funeral had a plaque upon it, declaring who would be sitting there. This was how Harry knew who would be in attendance, before the guests had even arrived. Harry could hardly believe how many chairs had been set up, but he supposed that if he had lived for one-hundred and sixteen years like Dumbledore had he would have come into contact with a lot of people as well. He pressed closer to Severus' side as they approached the area, his stomach having fallen through the ground.

The stern man brushed his hand lightly against Harry's, a subtle way of telling him he felt quite the same as Harry did. That reassured Harry a little, but not enough. Hermione and the Weasleys were already gathered, as were a number of Order members and the staff. They were all bustling around; making sure everything was ready for the ceremony. When Hermione saw him, she dropped the wreath of flowers in her arms and sprinted towards him. It was only Ron's Keeper reflexes that saved them from hitting the ground.

Hermione crossed the distance between them in very little time, colliding roughly with him even as she threw her arms about his neck, forcing Thrasos to take flight in order to avoid being knocked from Harry's shoulder. Harry wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly as he buried his face in her bushy hair. They held each other for some time, both of them trying to fight the overwhelming sorry that had settled upon them since Dumbledore had been killed during the battle.

When Hermione eventually pulled back, Harry could see the evidence of tears on her face. By now, Ron had joined them, his magical eye whizzing about in its socket. Harry embraced Ron as fiercely as he done with Hermione. "Did you hear...?" Harry asked, the words dying out before the question was even finished. He was just unable to voice it, even though he had had three whole days to come to terms with the fact that Luna had been taken by Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

"About Luna?" Ron asked gravely, wrapping his arm around Hermione and hugging her close to his side as she let out a small whimper of pain. "Of course, we did. Kingsley came and told us as soon as they discovered she was missing. Ginny and Neville...they were both hit pretty hard by the news – even harder than we were." Harry nodded upon hearing this; he was not, at all, surprised. Ginny and Neville had become closer friends to Luna in a shorter time than Harry, Ron and Hermione had.

Speaking of Ginny and Neville; the pair of them were descending from the castle, the former leaning rather heavily on the latter. It was clear that she was in the middle of a crying fit and Neville was offering her a shoulder and an ear. Even strong women needed to be held up some times, Harry noted. When they reached Harry and the others, more embraces were had. Severus, some time ago, had joined McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick, so he luckily avoided hearing the sobs of a miserable girl.

Ginny made an effort to get herself under control and succeeded quite well, rubbing her cheeks to rid her skin of the tear tracks, though her eyes remained red and puffy. Harry, Ginny and Neville helped Ron and Hermione with the flowers and then found their seats. The five of them were seated together. Harry was glad; it meant that they could give each other support if they needed it while the ceremony took place. The only disappointment was that Harry could not have Severus there with him; the Headmaster had to sit with the rest of the staff at the other side of the gathering.

As the minutes trickled by, more and more people began to arrive, each of them taking their seats. It was a virtual ocean of black robes, with hardly any vibrant colour in sight. One of the few exceptions was the presence of a deep purple in Kingsley Shacklebolt's hat, which covered his bald head and kept it warm. Even as Harry noticed it, Kingsley's deep voice sounded in his ears, via the earring the dark man had gifted him with. "_How are you holding up, Harry?_"

Harry touched his earring lightly, turning on his side of the communication charms. "As well as can be expected," Harry murmured in response to the Auror's question. "I'm sure the pain will dull over time. I know we didn't get on well in the past few months...but he was one of the few constants in my life."

"_Aye,_" the Auror rumbled. "_The Order is here for you, should you ever need to talk – about anything. We are more than willing to lend you an ear, if necessary. Minerva wanted me to tell you that, just in case you had the foolish notion to bottle everything up like you did in your fifth year._"

A strained chuckle escaped Harry and he replied, "_thank you._" He turned the communication off and glanced around. Almost all of the chairs were full now; the last group to arrive were the Vampires, who wore thick black cloaks, with their hoods up to cover their faces from the daylight. Though the sun would not kill them, it would cause their flesh to burn horrendously. It was better for them to remain fully covered, for all involved. Eldred Worple, the only human among their group, was the only one with his face in the open.

Looking at him, Harry wondered what it must be like to live among the Vampires, but he quickly dragged his mind away from such thoughts. He focused upon the impending ceremony ahead of them as the Funeral Minister took his place at the podium, which had been erected not too long ago. The Minister stood in front of everyone, welcoming them all to the lakeside, but offering his deepest commiserations for the untimely death of Albus Dumbledore, for whom they had all gathered that day...

To Be Continued.

Feel free to leave a review; they are like chocolate to me. ^_^


	16. Chapter 16

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Sixteen.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and patience and continued reading, guys! I appreciate all of it!

Chapter Sixteen

There were a number of speeches to be heard over the course of the funeral ceremony, ensuring that it would be an exceptionally long service. However, while most speeches almost put people to sleep or on edge – including the speech from Pius Thickness, the new Minister for Magic, who people were certain, was in league with the Dark Lord – it was Severus' speech that captured everyone's attention. Severus did not paint a false picture of Dumbledore, by speaking only of the good things he had done; he painted an accurate one.

Severus ensured that those at the ceremony saw him for what Dumbledore would have wanted them to see; a man who had made mistakes, who had made poor choices, whose decisions sometimes caused untold damage. But he also made quite sure that everyone knew that Dumbledore had done his best to make amends for any transgressions in his life. He painted him as a human, not as a saint or a demon, but when he had finished speaking people still felt that Dumbledore had been a good man. He was not perfect, not by half, but he was a good man in the end.

The stern Headmaster, who usually hated speaking in front of a crowd larger than a classroom, just had a way with words. He could make the simplest sentence speak volumes, with hardly any effort. Harry had no doubt that if the man ever decided to write fictitious books for a living, he would be extremely suited for it. He was the master of subtext and suspense. Glancing to the side, Harry could see McGonagall eyeing Severus in quiet approval, the slightest little quirk to her normally pinched mouth.

When Severus finished speaking, he inclined his head towards the gathering and stepped down from the podium, heading towards his seat. The funeral minister stood up once more. "Now, the Head of Ravenclaw House, Professor Flitwick has informed me that the school choir has a final send-off for their former Headmaster. Would the choir please step forward?" the man asked, casting his gaze around curiously. He was clearly looking for the Hogwarts Choir. Harry rose from his chair, as did Draco and a number of other choir members.

Harry turned to face the gathering, once his fellow choir members had joined his side. "I've no doubt that all of you are expecting a staid, solemn piece of music to send-off our esteemed former Headmaster. However, we actually have two songs ready for you. The first is a progressive rock song, written by a Muggle, during the seventies, called Carry On My Wayward Son and the other is a song that was written a number of weeks ago by one of our friends and fellow choir members – Luna Lovegood, who was abducted not too long ago.

While Harry spoke to the congregation, the other choir members were getting ready, conjuring their instruments, summoning their vials of fog. "We were saving it for the end of the war, for the mass funeral that will no doubt occur, but...we figured it would work just as well now. That second one is based on an Elvish hymn to Varda in JRR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, called A Elbereth Gilthoniel, which is the largest portion of Sindarin found in the novel. Yeah, our Luna likes the strange stuff, but we think you'll like it, too; it has that ancient magic feel to it, you know?"

Thinking he was making a fool of himself because he just kept rambling, Harry quickly shut himself up as the choir readied themselves. To open the first song, the choir members – both male and female – sang in unison, bringing in a nice harmony.

[Choir]

_Carry on my wayward son._

_There'll be peace when you are done._

_Lay your weary head to rest;_

_Don't you cry no more._

As the choir ended on that last chord, they hurled their vials of fog at the ground, where they shattered with a might crash, the fog billowing out, filling the air rapidly. While this happened, the drums and guitar played an instrumental interlude. At this point, the fog had morphed into the necessary forms for the progression of Dumbledore's life. The child-like fog-forms of Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore and their mother were running after their father, through a fog-forest, following the sounds of terrorized screams from a little girl, their sister.

Then, their fog-father was killing the three Muggles that had abused her, all while Albus and Aberforth were crying over their sister's body while their fog-mother tried desperately to heal her. Pretty quickly, there were Hit-Wizards apparating into being around their father, stunning him immediately. Then, fog-Albus was in the Court Room Ten, watching his fog-father during his trial. People in the congregation could see, as plain as day, the anger and resentment burning in Albus' face as his fog-father was convicted and sent to Azkaban Wizard Prison. They could see the determination in his face, to make changes.

[Draco]

_Once I rose above the noise and confusion,_

_Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion._

_I was soaring ever higher,_

_But I flew too high._

While the first verse was being sung by Draco, the past of Dumbledore was still being played out by the charmed fog. The congregation watched as fog-Albus was sorted into Gryffindor at Hogwarts. They watched as he steamed his way through his years at school, like a man on a mission to do great things. He was clearly one of the most brilliant academics to ever grace the distinguished halls of Hogwarts. They watched as he received news from Bathilda Bagshot that his mother had been found dead, after he had graduated from Hogwarts.

They watched as fog-Albus attended his mother's funeral, his younger sister clinging to his side. Not long after that...he met Gellert Grindelwald, who had been merely a young man at that point. It was clear that the two of them were in cahoots, as they would meet up, either in fields or in one of their bedrooms, talking about The Greater Good of putting Muggles in their rightful place, but everyone could tell that fog-Albus was being guided by his own intense feelings of anger and resentment after everything that had happened in his childhood.

[Harry]

_Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man._

_Though my mind could think I still was a mad man._

_I hear the voices when I'm dreaming._

_I can hear them say..._

[Choir]

_Carry on my wayward son._

_There'll be peace when you are done._

_Lay your weary head to rest;_

_Don't you cry no more._

The congregation watched as a three-way duel erupted between Aberforth, Albus and Grindelwald, with fog-Ariana ending up as a casualty while she had been trying to stop the fighting. They saw Grindelwald flee, angry and hurt and filled with remorse for something he surely thought he was guilty of, though it had been unclear whose spell had felled her. Fog-Albus fell upon the dead body of his sister, his hands hauling her up into his arms, clutching her to his chest as he wept brokenly. They viewed the funeral and fog-Aberforth punching Albus in the face over Ariana's grave.

[Theodore]

_Masquerading as a man with a reason,_

_My charade is the event of the season._

_And if I claim to be a wise man..._

_Well, it surely means that I don't know._

The years of Albus Dumbledore's life continued to play out before the funeral congregation, some of it causing the tiniest of smiles. The fog displayed Albus working with Nicholas Flamel on the twelve uses of Dragons' blood, his application for the position of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts, teaching notable students throughout the years, turning down the position of Minister for Magic over and over again. Then, of course, they watched the greatest duel in Wizarding History, between Albus and Grindelwald.

[Dean]

_On a stormy sea of moving emotion,_

_Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean._

_I set a course for winds of fortune,_

_But I hear the voices say... _

[Choir]

_Carry on my wayward son._

_There'll be peace when you are done._

_Lay your weary head to rest;_

_Don't you cry no more._

[Draco]

_No!_

There was another instrumental interlude, during which the fog flashed through years of Dumbledore's life, showcasing turning Voldemort's application for the position of DADA professor down, the beginning of the First Wizarding War, the founding of the Order of the Phoenix, the induction of members. One fog-scene showed Dumbledore leading the Order into an engagement with Voldemort and his Death Eaters before the first downfall of the Voldemort at the hands of an infant.

[Choir]

_Carry on_

[Harry]

_You will always remember_

[Choir]

Carry on

[Theodore]

_Nothing equals the splendour_

[Dean]

_Now your life's no longer empty,_

_Surely heaven waits for you!_

[Choir]

_Carry on my wayward son._

_There'll be peace when you are done._

_Lay your weary head to rest;_

_Don't you cry..._

[Draco]

_Don't you cry no more!_

[Harry]

_No more!_

As the instruments brought the song to a close, so, too, ended the fog-display at the battle at Bill's wedding, where Dumbledore had his last moments. But Harry made sure it ended before the moment when Dumbledore performed Legilimency upon Bellatrix. The fog remained a swirling mass, however, ready to be used during the next one. A number of people gave polite applause, but the majority of the congregation remained quiet as Harry and the others prepared for the final song, the Elvish hymn. Draco, some distance from Harry, banished the instruments; they would not need them for this song.

The choir – all of whom were dressed in their best funeral robes – moved to form a block of figures, sorting themselves according to whether they were soprano, alto, tenor or bass. The fog began to swirl again, moving up towards the distant castle, forming figures that were not quite clear due to the distance between it and the lake. Taking a united breath, the choir began singing the Elvish hymn in unison, the entire thing having a rather unearthly and mystical tone to it. Harry loved it.

_Fanuilos heryn aglar_

_Rin athar annún-aearath,_

_Calad ammen i reniar_

_Mi' aladhremmin ennorath!_

_A Elbereth Gilthoniel_

_Ichin'a thul lin miriel_

_Fanuilos le linnathon_

_Ne ndor haer thar i aearon_

_A elin na caim eglerib_

_Ned in ben-anor trerennin_

_Si silvirin ne pherth 'waewib_

_Cenim lyth thílyn thuiennin _

_A Elbereth Gilthoniel_

_Men echenim sí derthiel_

_Ne chaered hen nu 'aladhath_

_Ngilith or annún-aearath_.

While the choir had been singing these strange words, the fog had been descending from the castle, approaching the lake. As it came closer, the shapes became more and more obvious. There were cloaked figures astride horses, with more cloaked figures walking by their sides. They seemed to walk with an otherworldly grace that would have been hard to describe had Harry been forced to write about it. As the procession passed the congregation, the last rider turned in the saddle and lowered his hood.

It was fog-Albus. The fog-man waved to them all, with a benign smile, and continued on his journey towards the lake. A ship comprised entirely of fog came into being, docked by the lakeside. A gangplank was pushed out, allowing the fog-people to board the vessel. It was Dumbledore's final farewell, as he set sail in to the next life, ready for the next big adventure. As the Elvish hymn came to an end, the ship of fog pulled away from the lake side and sailed into the distance, disappearing from view as the fog eventually dissipated.

There were couple of muffled sniffles from the congregation, but all in all it was a very well received send-off. The choir members took their seats once more, finding comfort from each other because during the performance a number of them had become teary-eyed or choked up, including Harry, though he put on a brave face for Donatello, who borrowed strength from him. Donatello had been heavily affected by the news of Dumbledore's passing and had had a panic attack on top of his grief, thinking the next Headmaster would throw him out.

It had taken some time to explain to him that the next Headmaster was Severus and that there was no way he would kick him out. Donatello had been one of his favourite potions' students and was similarly talented in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Severus would never kick out a worthwhile student, unless they had done something drastic like lead a fellow student to an enraged Werewolf or drive a car into the Whomping Willow instead of sending on an owl to the school – at which point, Hermione had pointed out they both should have been expelled, but Ron had quickly shushed her, which had earned a small laugh from Donatello.

The funeral minister called for peoples' attention and then Hagrid came walking up the aisle between the seats, the linen-wrapped bundle that was Albus Dumbledore held lovingly in his arms. Great tears were getting lost in his bushy beard as he carried Dumbledore's cold body to the crystal tomb that was now waiting for him. With the gentlest of motions, Hagrid laid Dumbledore's body down and turned away quickly as a loud sob escaped him. He pulled out a handkerchief and half-buried his face in it as he moved away, quickly returning to his seat.

The funeral minister said a few concluding words and raised his wand to enclose the crystal tomb, but paused suddenly, his eyes on the distant sky somewhere behind the congregation. "My word, what's that?" he wondered aloud, his words drifting down to even the furthest rows. In every row of the congregation, people started turning in their chairs to see what he was talking about. Something back was moving through the sky, towards them, against the wind, at an alarming rate.

Hagrid went into a booming explanation as it what it was. Apparently, it was a Granian Stallion judging by the speed and wingspan alone, though the colouring was extremely rare. He went onto say that they were a beautiful, proud but gentle species and that only those who had earned their trust would be allowed to ride them. Thrasos, sitting atop Harry's shoulder, let out a disconcerted trill, shuffling closer to the side of Harry's head, wings shifting in agitation as he cocked his head from side to side.

The stallion was almost ready to land when people started realising there was someone riding his back. The person was so skinny; he had been almost invisible when leaning against the bulk of the large winged horse. The man's robes, billowing in the air, had been mistaken for part of the horse's wings. The horse landed a few yards behind the congregation, folding its wings gently against his sides. The rider slid down from his back, landing with a slight stumble before the man righted himself.

With his head held high and his back rigidly straight, the rider approached the congregation, the colour of his robes now dawning upon them. Several people gasped and jumped out of their seats, wands raised, while others were struck dumb by the sight of an escaped convict walking among them. Order members and Aurors were running in to do their duty, curses and hexes flying from their wands, all of them aimed at the incoming convict – the identity of which Harry still did not know.

However, no spell ever landed upon its intended target. Repeatedly, they bounced away from him or fizzled into nothing before they reached him. He gave them a look that clearly said, _bitch, please_, and continued walking towards the still open tomb of Albus Dumbledore. When Aberforth, roaring like a wild beast, his face contorted in hatred and rage, attacked the convict a thrust of his arm and a blast of magical energy sent the bartender flying backwards, landing in the lake with a loud splash.

The Order and the Aurors were soon to join the now soaking Aberforth, in the lake. The inherently powerful man walked steadily towards the open tomb, a serious express on his face, his onward march no longer contested among the congregation. While many of them were brave people, they were not stupid. It was clear this man was more powerful than any of them present, except for, perhaps, Harry, who had been ordered to remain seated by Kingsley, through his earring.

Severus was moving towards the opened tomb, but at a sedate pace, though his shoulders were tensed. He had his wand in his hand, but not raised; it was clearly for defence only. Snape and the convict reached the tomb in the same moment, the funeral minister scurrying away. They had a quiet discussion, their words never once reaching the ears of the congregation. Frowning, but nodding, Severus stepped back, hand tightening around his wand. The convict leaned over the crystal tomb and gently unwrapped the linen, just enough to reveal Dumbledore's face.

Dumbledore had been kept in stasis to prevent decay, while the preparations for the funeral were made, so he still looked as though he could be sleeping. Closing his eyes, the unhealthily slender man pressed a soft kiss to Dumbledore's forehead and re-wrapped him in the starch white linen. Eyebrows having disappeared into his hairline, Harry leaned over to Hermione. "Who is that man?" he asked, his amazement clear.

"Gellert Grindelwald," Hermione whispered back to him, brown eyes wide and lower lip trembling. It was clear she was afraid of the man in front of them and it was not, in the least, surprising. According to history, Grindelwald had done many terrible things. Magically great and historically famous, yes...but exceedingly terrible. The atrociousness of his deeds had only been shadowed by the work of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Grindelwald was a man Harry would never want to get on the wrong side of...

To Be Continued

Songs used in this chapter are Carry on My Wayward Son by Kansas and The Passing of the Elves from the Lord of the Rings soundtrack. I don't own either of them and am making no profit. Don't sue me.


	17. Chapter 17

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Seventeen.

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Note: Happy New Year everyone! If you're wondering why I haven't been posting, the reason is that the Christmas season started to get so hectic that I decided I would take a break from writing for the holiday. I had enough pressures without urging myself to write so many words in a day, when all I really had the time to do was prepare for Christmas by making cakes and other desserts. And soup. Hopefully, the wait hasn't driven any of you away...Well, we'll see, won't we? ^_^ Read and enjoy!

Chapter Seventeen

The funeral ceremony came to its conclusion not long after Grindelwald arrived, with the aged man standing under a tree not too far away, watching like a hawk. The minister overseeing the ceremony was so nervous his wand was shaking, but that was only to be expected. It was not every day, after all, that an infamous Dark Wizard gate-crashed a funeral. While Harry was disturbed by his sudden break out of Nurmengard, he was curious about the man as well. _Why now?_ Harry thought. _He spent all these long years in a cell and now he decides to break out. For what?_

It was rather obvious that it had something to do with Albus' death. Could the man have loved Dumbledore? Could Dark Wizards love? But even thinking these thoughts caused Harry's gaze to drift over to Severus, who stood sentinel near the tomb, wand still in hand, and he knew immediately that Dark Wizards could love; in fact, they could love passionately and that was what made them so dangerous. If the slightest harm came to their loved ones, the reason for that harm was beyond saving.

Harry did not know whether he was impressed or worried that Grindelwald loved Dumbledore. Of course, he was in awe that the love had lasted so long; it had been well over fifty years since the two men had been boys. Harry found himself wondering whether his and Severus' love would survive the passage of time, but he supposed they would have to wait and see. Not every love was supposed to last forever, after all. Once the funeral was finished, Harry embraced his friends briefly, if tightly, before heading over to Severus.

"What do we do about Grindelwald?" Harry asked quietly, coming to stand by Severus, so close that the man's knuckles were ghosting across his hip whenever he shifted. The two of them flicked their gaze over to Grindelwald, who was glaring menacingly at everyone who passed him, particularly the Aurors.

"I have no idea," Severus murmured, admitting it reluctantly. Harry frowned, clearly troubled his admittance. It was unusual for Severus to have no idea what to do, regardless of the situation at hand. "But whatever we eventually do...we'll have to keep a sharp eye on him. And by 'we,' I mean myself and the Order, not you and your friends," he concluded sternly, noticing how Harry's gaze had hardened with determination. "If you're insisting on helping, you can use your map, but leave handling him to those who are more experienced than you."

"Alright, alright; you don't have to keep going on about it," Harry said, a cheeky tone creeping into his voice. He stuck his tongue out at the man.

"Cheeky brat," Severus groused.

Harry grinned impishly. "Of course," he replied. Not too far away, Grindelwald turned away from Dumbledore's tomb and started marching up towards the castle, head bowed. "Come on, we'd best be following him." Harry slipped his arm around Severus' elbow and the two them set off at a quick pace, following Grindelwald, but keeping their distance in order to have time to avoid any spells should the Dark Wizard suddenly turn around and cast at them. Harry doubted he would, though, for some reason, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Harry and Severus followed Gryffindor right up to Severus' new office, where one of the portraits' occupants was rather suspiciously absent. Harry felt a pang in his abdomen as he watched Grindelwald's face fall. It was clear he had been hoping to speak to Dumbledore's portrait; he must have had a number of important things to tell him and would not get the chance to do so. If he was honest with himself, Harry could not help but pity the man who had been one of the greatest Dark Wizards of the age.

Grindelwald's shoulders sagged in misery for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to stand tall once more as he turned to face Severus and Harry, who were both watching him warily. Folding his arms across his chest, he half-sat and half-leaned on Severus' desk, completely ignoring the way the dark-haired man's eye twitched at the impudence. "I suppose you'd like to know why I'm here," he said, his eyes drifting closed, as if he wished to avoid their almost constant staring.

"You could say that," Severus said, overriding Harry who had opened his mouth to speak. Harry glared at the man for cutting him off. "Why don't you start at the beginning and explain how you managed to escape Nurmengard, when it is said to be more magically guarded than Azkaban?"

Grindelwald smirked and Harry thought it looked rather disfigured on his wizened face. "There was a man," he said, his eyes misting slightly over as he revisited the events. "He was covered in shadow and carried a staff." Harry's gaze sharpened fractionally; he knew of only two Wizards that carried staff, but he had a feeling it had not been Lord Slytherin that had sought Grindelwald at Nurmengard. "He threw the newspaper at me and there was an article about Albus' death. I just...lost it completely."

"So you broke out...?" Severus asked, simply for confirmation. Grindelwald nodded, the expression on his face quite serious now. Harry folded his arms across his chest, a frown forming on his face. Grindelwald must have been in a towering rage, if he described himself as losing it completely. He sympathized with the man; had it been Severus, he was sure that not even Voldemort could have stopped Harry from going on an absolute rampage through the ranks of his Death Eaters, regardless of how powerful they were. "And then?" Severus prompted.

"I came here," Grindelwald replied, his tone hinting that he thought Severus was a bit dense for asking. "I didn't come here just for Albus, of course – there are other factors at play, here."

"Like what?" Harry asked before Severus could get a word in. He ignored the dark glare sent his way.

"Like," Grindelwald began, absently fiddling with one of Dumbledore's trinkets, which – for some unfathomable reason – Severus could not find the heart to remove from the desk just yet, "the presence of a weapon that could help destroy either side, if used."

Severus summoned his chair from behind the desk and sat down with a weary sigh. Harry stood behind him, hands gripping the back of the chair so hard his knuckles turned white. "What kind of weapon do you speak of?" Severus asked and even Harry could detect the hint of worry in his rich voice.

"Something you wouldn't suspect if you didn't already know it existed." Severus narrowed his eyes at that answer, but it was more of a half-answer in Harry's opinion. He assumed Grindelwald was being deliberately cryptic, considering the man kept glancing at the portraits on the wall as if he expected them to run off to tell the world about the weapon he spoke of. Grindelwald must have realised they would not take half-answers, for he continued quietly. "Have either of you heard of the Deathly Hallows?"

Harry thought he might have heard of them, but he could not remember what they were or where he recognised the phrase from. Severus, however, knew of them for he nodded with a strange expression on his face. "Of course I've heard of them; they're the three magical artefacts in the Tale of the Three Brothers, though some believe they exist in real life and once belonged to the Peverell brothers. I believe one of them does, but I doubt the others exist."

Grindelwald's gaze sharpened as he looked up from the trinket he was fiddling with. "Which one do you think exists?"

"The cloak," Severus said firmly, his tone leaving little room for doubt. "It has descended down the Potter line for many generations." Harry's eyebrows lifted in surprise; he had assumed that the cloak had been a long-existing family heirloom, but he had not thought much about its existence after he had heard the Tale of the Three Brothers.

"Then you will be quite dismayed to learn that the Elder Wand also exists."

Harry and Severus stared at Grindelwald, neither of them capable of believing what they had just heard. "You can't be serious!"

"Oh, I am, make no mistake! I should know; I used to possess it. I stole it from a wand maker named Gregorovitch when I was a young man, quite a while before I began my rise to power." He rubbed the side of his nose with a skeletal finger. "You could probably guess where the wand went after that."

"Why didn't he ever _use_ it?!" Severus demanded, rising from his chair in a rapid motion as his hands curled into fists by his sides.

"And you can guess that as well," Grindelwald said with a weary sigh. His gaze flicked towards Harry, causing Harry to blanch as he realized what the man actually meant. "Albus might have been sorted into Gryffindor by the hat, but he has as many Slytherin traits as Voldemort – self-preservation, manipulation and a thirst for power amongst them. He was a barmy old codger, but he was no fool. He knew that, if he died in battle while completing the task, many people would consider the cause lost...so...he started a group that might as well have been his army. The general normally doesn't go into battle, after all."

"But he has gone into battle," Harry said sharply, feeling the need to defend Dumbledore from this man. "He died in battle!"

"He did," Grindelwald agreed, "but it's not something he would have expected. He was protecting his most valuable asset that night; he was protecting you. You're the light side's poster boy. You're the one who'll rally the troops when needed, at the right time. He also knew that if he set you a task, you'd die if it meant getting it completed and you're not alone in that. He has an army of people that would do same, thus the war stands a chance of being won even now that Albus has passed away. But Albus was a man cocky enough to go against Death Eaters and believe he would come out without a scratch; you can bet, however, that he didn't anticipate being attacked from behind."

Grindelwald scratched the back of his neck. "Ownership of the Elder Wand has been won by the Death Eater that killed Albus and if Voldemort ever catches wind of a wand that could win the war, it will be all over because he'll come here to claim it and if that happens we might as well jump in the lake and drown ourselves because there's no way we could beat him. We need to protect the wand at all costs and we need to hunt down the Death Eater that killed Albus and slaughter him. We need to win back ownership as soon as possible, prevent Voldemort from winning it by killing his own man."

"I don't think that will be a problem," said Severus slowly, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown. "Harry, take Thrasos and head back to the cottage. Grindelwald and I need to discuss some delicate subjects." Harry's lips thinned as he glared; he hated being sent away when something clearly important was about to be discussed, but in this instance he did not dare disobey his lover. Harry shrugged his shoulder, dislodging Thrasos from his shoulder. He took hold of a feather and, in a flash of black and silver flames, Harry and Phoenix returned to the cottage.

Harry sighed when they arrived in the living room, but he was sure that whatever the two of them spoke about he would find out about eventually. He would just have to try not to do anything foolish until such a time. Thoughts of his conversation with Grindelwald went out of his head when Padfoot came barrelling into the living room, barking happily at his return. Harry stooped and allowed the puppy to leap into his arms, where he held him securely as he straightened, snuggling against his furry head.

Padfoot licked Harry's cheek, earning a grin, and licked Thrasos' beak, eliciting a happy trill. Harry sat on the couch and allowed Padfoot to crawl all over him, nuzzling Harry's face with his wet snout, investigating all the different scents that now clung to Harry. When Harry began to doze off on the couch, due to the comfortable quality of the furniture, Padfoot curled up on his chest and started drifting off too. It would be an endearing sight for Severus when he finally returned from the castle.

By the time Harry woke it was late evening and the smell of dinner was drifting in from the kitchen. Severus had clearly been cooking while he was asleep. Harry rose from the couch and slipped into the kitchen, his puppy following along behind him, quite eagerly. Severus was setting the table for the pair of them, dishes filled with food hovering at his side. The man's concentration did not waiver once when Harry entered, but it was a close call when Padfoot began running around Severus' legs, earning a snap of, "Would you get that blasted mongrel under control?!"

"Watch what you say," Harry growled. "He's not a mongrel, so don't you dare call him that again!" He snapped his fingers and Padfoot came rushing back over to him, yipping. "And it's not his fault you've got food floating around, teasing him while he's hungry." Harry fell silent, giving Severus the cold shoulder as he pottered around, getting Padfoot's own dinner ready for him. He set a steel bowl down for him in the corner of the room and the puppy munched on it, decidedly oblivious to the rest of the room.

"There was no need to get snippy with me," Severus said quietly, when the two of them were sitting at opposing ends of the table, food on their plates.

"That's rich," Harry retorted, "coming from the Master of being snippy." Severus lip curled unpleasantly at the dig, but he said nothing in response to Harry's comeback. The two of them concentrated on their dinner, the room silent save for the scrape of cutlery and the sound of a young dog eating voraciously. It was not the first time he and Harry had a falling out over the course of their relationship, but it would not be the last. Both of them knew they would concede to each other's points before the night was out.

It was almost midnight when previous experience proved true and Harry, standing in the doorway of Severus' bedroom, apologized in a quiet voice. For several moments Severus stood, silhouetted against the moonlight shining in through the window, before finally accepting Harry's apology, whilst offering his own. Crossing the room, Harry came to stand behind Severus, slipping his arms around the man, who was currently wearing only his trousers. Harry brushed a kiss across pale skin, earning a shiver.

Harry smiled against Severus' shoulder blade and encouraged the man to turn around. Sliding his arms up to wrap around Severus' neck, Harry caught the man's mouth in a kiss that left them breathless afterwards. After removing each other's clothes, Harry tugged the older man towards the bed, lying back, pulling Severus down to cover him in his warmth. Harry smiled coyly up at him, his fingers gliding down Severus' side. Their kisses leading to more intimacies, they were soon lost in each other.

Harry and Severus spent the night each other's arms, alternating between lovemaking and cuddling, in spite of the winter chill that tried to creep up their legs. Now that Harry had experienced sex, he was no longer afraid of it. He trusted Severus more than he trusted anyone else in the world, even Ron and Hermione. Afterwards, they laid in a tangle of sheets and limbs, their flushed chests heaving from exertion, their bodies dripping with sweat. With a murmured Cleaning Charm, Severus gathered Harry up in his arms and the two of them fell into a pleasant slumber, comforted by each other's warmth.

Severus was the first to wake in the morning, but Harry was close behind him. "Morning," Severus murmured into Harry's ear. Harry grunted in response, rolling over to kiss him. Their kiss was brief but loving. "I think it's time to give you the second half of your present; we were a bit distracted before, with everything that was happening." Harry mumbled his agreement and wearily climbed out of bed, pulling on a fresh set of clothes. Severus followed suit in silence, before preceding him out the door.

Harry and Severus descended the staircase, heading into the living room. Throwing a fistful of powder into the fireplace, Severus made a floo-call to the Weasley household. Ginny was in the middle of breakfast, but she was happy to step away from the meal for a few minutes, to help Severus give Harry the second part of his gift. She came through the floo and stepped out into the living room of the cottage. "Let's get this done!" she said happily.

Severus urged Harry to lie down on the couch and summoned his notebook. Trembling with trepidation, Harry did as he was told, eyeing the wand Ginny was now aiming at him. She incanted a phrase written in Severus' notebook and Harry's vision went black.

To Be Continued.

Feel free to leave reviews guys! I feast on them. Om nom!


	18. Chapter 18

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Eighteen.

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks for the patience guys and the reviews! ^_^ On with the show...

Chapter Eighteen

Sitting in the prison cell with Rolf and Ollivander, Luna could not help but count the hours of captivity that had passed. More than one hundred and twenty hours had gone by. She had her wand, now, but for now she felt it would be safer to keep that fact unknown. She did not want to draw unnecessary attention at the present time. Suffice it to say, those hours went past at an excruciatingly slow pace. It was as if time was mocking her, laughing at her for being the victim of abduction at the hands of her enemy.

Though the time passed slowly, Luna was glad that none of them had been dragged out for a round of torture since she had secretly won her wand back. This was both a blessing and a curse; while they were not hurt, the three of them could not stop thinking about the tortures that were, undoubtedly, waiting for them. With each passing day, the bags under their eyes grew more pronounced. At night, Rolf would wake repeatedly due to nightmares. Ollivander, however, could not sleep at all, his terror was so great.

Using the different perception skills that Ron's brother, Bill, had taught her, Luna made sure the coast was clear, before morphing into her Animagus form. As Popsicle – the nickname she had given to herself several weeks back – she would climb on top of Ollivander, allowing the fluffiness and warmth of her coat to soothe him into a meditative state, so that he was getting some form of rest, at least. The wand maker was always grateful, even if he tried to dissuade her from comforting him – all for propriety's sake, of course! But a growl always made the elderly man back down, just enough.

Luna sighed and rested her head against the wall. She eyed the two men sitting nearby. It was strange to note that as the days passed, the three of them had started huddling closer together. Luna was no longer on the opposite side of the room, but had swung around to their side, sitting not too far away from Rolf. The magi-zoologist was a mystery to her; he never spoke of anyone that would be missing him – not even a lover. It was strange to think that the only person that might miss him could very well be in the same dungeon.

Luna's eyes drifted closed against the thought. She did not want horrible thoughts like that to crowd her mind. If her thoughts turned too dismal, she might begin to lose hope of escape and that was not something that any of them could afford. The other two were already starting to lose hope; hers had to remain if they had any chance of getting out of their unfortunate situation. So, she funnelled half of her energy into keeping her hope alive and used the other half to scheme.

The multitudes of plans were never too elaborate in her mind, but would often be confusing for another individual. Lucky for Luna and her fellow captives, she was not another individual. The cogs of her mind continuously turning, she waited out the silence, wondering when the Death Eaters would try to get information out of one of them. The answer to her thoughts came not too long after when the sound of footsteps echoed down the length of the corridor outside the door.

The lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing a pair of Death Eaters who clearly meant business; Luna did not recognise either of them. One of them, a woman, snarled, "Ollivander, get up off your scrawny arse! The Dark Lord wishes to...speak with you." The man at her side smirked, the expression not the least bit friendly. Ollivander's face lost what little colour it had and he visibly started to shake. Rolf tried to convince him to stay put and gave Luna an imploring stare, but there was nothing that she could do this time.

If she tried to step in this time, they would all be dead and it would have been for nothing. "Fight him with everything you have," Luna whispered to him as Ollivander got to his feet. "Don't give him what he wants." Ollivander looked at her, fear burning in his eyes, and he nodded, understanding how important his silence could be in regards to the war effort. Luna knew that Ollivander would try his best to keep whatever things he knew, to himself, but she also knew that it would be a desperately hard fight that might not even be successful.

Ollivander approached the Death Eaters, who grabbed him roughly and virtually dragged him out of the dungeon cell. When the door was shut and locked and their footsteps had receded, Rolf rounded on her. "How could you do that?!" he demanded. "How could you leave him to their mercy like that?!"

"I didn't have a choice, Mr Scamander!" Luna replied defensively.

"Don't give me that crap! There's always a choice! You chose not to do anything," Rolf growled, lunging for her. Luna was almost flattened against the ground, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly, almost as if she was afraid she would fall through the floor beneath her. Rolf glared angrily down at her, his arms caging her, his hands pressed against the hard stone floor, fingers digging into the grooves between slabs of stone. "My Grandfather trusted you and you betrayed him. And me! What do you have to say for yourself?!"

Luna sighed, and peered up at him; she understood his point of view, but he was wrong. "I didn't betray him, Mr Scamander; I mean it. Like I've said before, your Grandfather is here for a reason. If the Dark Lord wants to interrogate him, then he'll do so and there's nothing that you or I could do to stop it – the last time, it wasn't the Dark Lord we had to contend with; just a Death Eater. This time, however, I have no choice but to stand aside. Unless you want us all to die before we can defend ourselves?" Her gaze, normally dreamy, sharpened as they focused on Rolf's face.

They had a glaring contest for several long minutes, neither of them realizing just how inappropriate their positions were. "I _am_ sorry, though," Luna admitted, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes softening. She patted Rolf's cheek lightly, briefly lingering as Rolf's gaze softened in response. "I know it's hard having someone you love in danger; I understand it completely. Most of my friends are targets...and my father...everyone I hold dear. So...you're not alone, no matter what happens; I want you to remember that."

Rolf sighed, lowering his head. He rested his forehead against Luna's shoulder. "Our world is becoming a nightmare," he said quietly, his words laced with a hint of fear.

"It's no more nightmarish than any other world," Luna replied calmly. "Every world has its ups and downs, its peace and wars. We're not very different to Muggles, really; they have problems they can't solve and so do we. They've been to the moon, you know, Muggles."

"Really?" the man asked, lifting his head to give her a look of bewilderment. "I'd never have guessed..."

"Most Wizards wouldn't," Luna said, a chuckle escaping on her breath. The realisation that that was the first time she had laughed since their incarceration caused both of them to pause, before a matching set of smiles tugged at their lips. It was something no one else could possibly have shared with her, in such a dire point in time. Of course, following that realisation came the knowledge that she was still pinned beneath the older man, her knees brushing his hips in a manner that would have caused her father to hex him into oblivion had he been there. The skirt of the dress she had worn to Bill's wedding had hiked halfway up her thigh. "I don't suppose you could get off now..."

A burst of embarrassed laughter escaped Rolf as his grimy cheeks flushed with red. He pulled himself away, almost falling over in his haste to get away from her. Luna could not help but think it was exceedingly endearing. She watched him take a seat some distance away, his face still covered in a blush. Sitting up, she grinned in amusement, feeling glad that something had brought the man some happiness in these dark times. Rolf glanced in her direction and, catching her looking at him, he tore his gaze away almost instantly.

Luna shifted, coming to sit by his side. Ignoring his protestations, she leaned her head against his shoulder. There were some experiences one could not go through without making firm bonds with people in a short space of time and captivity was, unfortunately, one of them...

θθθ

School had started up again and Luna had still not been rescued a week after term had begun. It did not surprise Harry, but that did not mean he was happy about it. Severus and Regulus regularly got together to plan, often times summoning Harry to the Headmaster's office to help with that, but they were making no headway. Neither former Death Eater could agree on which location was the most probable, after leaving Lestrange Manor out of the equation. Regulus was convinced they were using Yaxley Estate, while Severus was certain that Malfoy Manor had become the Dark Lord's hide away, because it was now empty following their deaths the previous year.

Harry thought it made sense but he had to wonder if part of that was personal bias. At the present time, Harry was making his way up to the Room of Requirement, to start up the SHIELD meetings again. Even with Luna missing, they were necessary. To fight the good fight, they would have to be prepared to face any and all Dark spells that would be used in battle. They needed to be ready and Harry would be damned if he did not help them along the way. He just hoped the war would not reach its pinnacle before they were at least as ready as they could possibly be, considering the forces they would face.

As Harry waited for the other SHIELD members to arrive, he used that valuable time to do a few laps on the running track, jumping hurdles as he did so. He pushed himself as much as he could, sweat dripping down his face and torso in rivulets, but eventually he had to gradually slow to a stop and do a few cool-down exercises. Rubbing his skin with a towel that the room provided, he grinned cheerily when the door opened and Godric and Slytherin entered, dressed for training.

He waved in greeting, which they returned, a matching pair of smirks dancing across their mouths. "Honestly, Harry," Slytherin drawled, "if you continue to dress like that some innocent lamb's brain will explode from the shock!" The blonde's comment, mostly teasing but with a hint of seriousness, made Godric laugh and Harry snort in amusement.

"I'd be grateful if you didn't make comments about my ugliness," Harry retorted, sticking his tongue out at the fair-haired Founder.

"Ugliness, right," Slytherin replied dryly. The man shook out his blonde mane and rubbed invisible lintel from the sleeve of his robes. Harry snickered at the sight and pulled his t-shirt back on. It was a good thing, too, for a moment later the door opened and a flock of teenage girls bustled in, followed by Donatello and his friends. Donatello came straight over to Harry and gave him the warmest hug Harry had ever received from him. Smiling down at his pseudo-brother, Harry ruffled the boy's hair.

Afterwards, Harry greeted the other members that had arrived thus far. It proved fruitful; a number of them had been set tasks by him during the holidays – mainly to create maps of their areas. Every map he received that evening he tacked to the Room of Requirement's wall, so that they could keep an eye on them during their session. Harry was glad someone had been clever enough to get a map of Diagon Alley – it would surely be a target in the days to come, just as it had been the previous year.

The other members of SHIELD soon arrived and Harry was about begin teaching a new curse and counter-curse to the group when Lavender spoke up, a shrill tone to her voice. "Bellatrix Lestrange is in Diagon Alley!" Everyone turned towards the maps, shock and horror on their faces. Harry hurried forward; just to be sure Lavender was not seeing things. But his stomach fell through the floor when he saw the evidence for himself. "Look! There are more of them showing up!" A number of other known Death Eaters were popping into existence along the street.

Harry's jaw tightened with determination and the Room of Requirement answered to his wishes; nearby a window materialized. Harry moved towards it. "Harry, stop!" Hermione cried, reaching out to him. "It could be a trap for all we know!"

"How can it be?" he snapped. "They don't know we have these maps! There are Death Eaters in Wizarding London and they're about to start terrorizing innocent people. We can't just sit back and do nothing."

"We should leave it for the Order to handle," Slytherin said, folding his arms across his chest. "That's what they're supposed to do."

"I'm going," Godric said, marching forward, his expression as determined as Harry's. "Harry's right. We have the chance to do something; we should take it." Harry pulled the window open and launched himself out of the building. As he descended through the air, which buffeted him, he pushed himself into a spin, squeezing his eyes closed as he quickly disapparated, the cries of his fellow classmates left far behind. With a crack, Harry appeared in Diagon Alley, just outside the Weasley's joke shop.

He was joined moments later by a windswept Ron and Hermione, followed by a few others including Neville and Daphne. It was Godric and the older students who had come; the younger ones had clearly been forced to stay behind, guarded by Slytherin, who had opted to let the Order handle the matter. Dividing into groups of threes, they charged into battle with the numerous Death Eaters who lined the streets. Harry, Ginny and Dean found themselves face to face with the psychotic Bellatrix.

Curses and Hexes flew in every direction; Harry had to use every ounce of his reflexes, dancing this way and that, avoiding spells coming from other areas, while blocking spells from Bellatrix and sending out his own. The spells he used grew darker and darker as he and the others faced off against her. The woman enjoyed it, her tongue sticking out through rotting teeth and pink lips. Her eyes were wild within her sunken flesh. Her hair was whipped about by the wind and swiftly moving spells.

She had skills that Harry had rarely seen; she seemed capable of blocking and casting three spells simultaneously, pushing her advantage, forcing them backwards. Along the street, students were crying out with triumph as some Death Eaters fell and SHIELD members received wounds. From what he heard, two or three Death Eaters had been burned alive by Godric. Harry was glad that Godric was on the Light side. Snarling, Harry upped his performance, spitting out rapid-fire Curses and Hexes that seemed to catch Bellatrix off-guard, briefly, every ten minutes or so.

All throughout Diagon Alley, lights were switching on inside houses and shops. Screams of children could be heard; they were clearly terrified and with good reason. Harry could imagine that the battle was a rather horrifying sight. Blues and reds and greens and purples were flashing across the sky, almost like a fireworks display...but there was nothing beautiful about war, not while one was right in the thick of it. Bellatrix gasped in surprise when one of Ginny's curses nicked her face.

"You little bitch!" she cried out, her voice full of hatred and rage. The psychotic Death Eater was almost foaming at the mouth. "_Sectumsempra_!" Though the dark-haired woman had hated Severus with a passion, she clearly had no problems with taking advantage of his genius, using his spells for her own ends. The Dark spell was so powerful that it cut through Ginny's _Shield Charm_ and slammed into her torso, sending her flying back. Ginny collided with a brick wall, a shriek of agony torn from her lips.

The red-head slumped to the ground in a heap; she was no longer moving and blood was staining her white shirt. "Ginny!" Harry cried in a panic, hastily erecting a number of a wards and shields of varying types and strength as he stumbled towards her. Harry fell to his knees at her side, scrambling to put pressure on her wounds, to try to stem the blood flow. "Oh, Merlin," Harry whispered, his voice strained. He could hardly believe that Ginny had been taken down; she was such a gifted Witch!

Harry, when he noticed, that there was some blood trickling out from the back of her head, forced himself to abandon her abdominal wounds in an effort to revive her with a spell. He had to keep her awake and talking to him; he could not let her slip into death. Ron and the rest of the Weasley clan would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself, either. Ginny's eyelids fluttered open, a pained expression flashed across her face. She tried to move. "No, stop," Harry urged her, hands returning to her abdomen. "Save your strength!"

Harry's fingers were soaked with blood. Ginny was growing paler by the second. Ginny's brown eyes, normally bright with happiness, were dark with fear and agony. Tears were beginning to well. "Harry...am...I...going...to...d –"

"No!" Harry snapped sharply, cutting her off before she could finish the question. He did not want to hear or think about the possibility of her dying in this fight. "You're...you're going to be fine. Padma's making her way over now! You know how good with Healing she is!" Of course...this was a lie; Padma had been struck down with a Hex only moments ago. There was no one coming to help Ginny; everyone was too busy with their own battles.

"I'm...cold..." Ginny whispered, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. Her hand, shaking violently now, reached for Harry's. He granted her request...knowing it could quite possibly be her last...

To Be Continued.

Please leave your thoughts in a review! I look forward to reading them! ^_^


	19. Chapter 19

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Nineteen.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: *evil laugh* Ginny's fate is in my hands; read on to discover whether she lives or dies...

Chapter Nineteen

As Ginny's eyelids began fluttering closed, a feeling of deep-seated panic began to bloom in Harry's chest. Harry was just about to lose all hope when a string of apparition sounds began filling the spaces between shouts of spells. A shadow, immense in size, fell across Harry's kneeling form and Ginny's dying body. "Out of the way," came the snarling voice of Severus Snape, enraged yet seemingly concerned and protective, as he shoved Harry to the side, ripping Harry's hand from Ginny's. The man, black robes billowing around him, fell upon Ginny's body, wand in hand.

"Look at me, Miss Weasley; focus upon my voice," the man continued, calling to the student whose life was failing before his very eyes, his voice almost soothing now, as the bright glow of an oncoming _Healing Charm_ began at the end of Severus' wand. Harry watched, torn between relief and guilt, as a scene, reminiscent of the healing of Draco in his sixth year, played out before. Severus, his tone gentle, virtually sang the incantation that would heal. There were tones of guilt, remorse and bitterness woven into Severus' gentle voice that Harry almost did not want to understand.

It was utterly heart-wrenching, watching a man so filled with the potential to love heal a student through a song of so much personal pain. The blood pooling around Ginny's torso began to reverse its flow, slipping back inside the precious walls of her veins. The wounds – even the one at the back of her head – began to close up as the last trace of blood had returned to her body. Severus continued to sing to her until her good health was a most absolute certainty, pulling back away from her only when the colour and spark of life had return to her skin and eyes respectively.

Even amidst the battle, it took Ginny a few moments to regain her bearings, pulling herself up from the ground, a hand rising shakily to her temple. While this occurred, Harry was too busy staring as Severus whirled on him, black eyes glittering dangerously. "Fool," he growled, one hand almost reaching for him, before he instantaneously thought better of it. Instead, the man rose to his feet, turning to face Bellatrix Lestrange, who had Dean on his last legs in their duel. Bellatrix looked frightful in wand-light.

Harry got to his feet immediately afterwards, shielding Ginny with his body, even as he and Severus – a pair of Magical tanks in some respects – faced down a neurotic serial killer. Side by side, Harry and Severus took her on, relieving Dean who fell back as soon as possible, sweat pouring down his face, a number of cuts along his arms. Ginny, now quite recovered, reached for him and pulled him out of the line of fire, tending to him with the few basic _Healing Charms_ that she had picked up from Padma Patil at some point.

Even as Severus and Harry, magically powerful combined in ways that even Dumbledore could not have fathomed, duelled with Bellatrix, snarling and growling and hisses, throwing hexes and curses and jinxes that could have caught any duellist by surprise, the rest of the Order of the Phoenix – who had arrived with Severus – were taking on their own Death Eaters, teaming up in some instances, fighting alone in others. It was a battle of outstanding proportions, larger than the fight in the Department of Mysteries, larger than the infiltration of Hogwarts the previous year, larger than the rescue attempt around Halloween.

Harry imagined that over the course of the war, the battles would only get larger as more and more people got involved. The battle wore on and on, neither side gaining the upper hand. It seemed to be a most alarming stale mate, but suddenly, Severus lunged forward, catching Bellatrix completely by surprise. He collided hard with her, knocking them both over, miraculously missing all the random spell-fire flashing through the air around them. Bellatrix let out an undignified squawk – having never been caught so off guard in her life.

They landed hard on the ground, rolling and scuffling this way and that. Harry lost track of which limb belonged to him as black melded with black. Harry wanted to step forward, to help, but he was certain that Severus would not appreciate it. So, instead, he permeated the area with protective wards that would trigger only when Severus' magical signature was recognised – Harry had grown quite proficient with Magic since the SHIELD meeting had started, guided by Godric and Slytherin, who were both extremely talented duellists – and headed down Diagon Alley, ready to jump in wherever he was needed.

As it happened, it was Draco and Neville that needed the most help – circled as they were by five Death Eaters. Joining them, Harry increased their chances of winning a great deal – though Draco would most certainly have denied it afterwards. Harry was in the midst of duelling these Death Eaters when there came a crack of apparition directly behind him. The Death Eaters in their group lowered their wands instantly and backed off, the action causing Harry and his companions to whirl around, in confusion and dismay.

Harry paled considerably, but his scar was mercifully painless – a lovely quirk of having the Horcrux within him removed and destroyed – as Voldemort towered over him, his black robes billowing in a nightmarish fashion. Voldemort's crimson eyes burned with hatred at the sight of him, like two fires in a forest of white skin. Harry and his friends did not get a chance to even raise their wands in defence before a blast of wandless magical energy rippled through Diagon Alley, sending allies and foes to the ground alike.

Harry hit his head when he impacted with the ground, sending stars to his eyes. It took several moments for Harry to figure out where he was and what was going on and when he did it was to discover Voldemort standing over him, emanating a cold wave fury and hate, aiming his wand directly at Harry's heart. Harry made to raise his wand...only to discover it had fallen from his hand and now lay several feet away. "Now the world will know to remember this day as the day hope was lost, the day I ascend to the top of the chain," Voldemort uttered in a snake-like hiss. "The day Harry Potter became no more! _Avada Kedavra_!"

Harry heard the unified cry of denial from Severus and Remus, as one or both of them came barrelling down the street. Harry did not look; he did not take his eyes of the end of Voldemort's wand, which for some reason, Harry realized, was not the man's own. The magic was delayed by a fraction of a second and this slight delay seemed to be what saved Harry's life for, without Harry even summoning his wand to himself, he found his fingers clenching around it, his arm was yanked upwards as if by some invisible force.

An explosion of golden light shot out the end of Harry's wand, illuminating the street more brightly than any precious spell-work during the battle. It made Voldemort jerk backwards, one arm rising to cover his eyes as the wand clenched in his other hand exploded, the splinters ripping into Voldemort's flesh. A figure fell upon Harry and with a loud crack, they disappeared, leaving the battle far behind, unknowing of the enraged scream that tore up from the centre of Voldemort's chest at having been thwarted once again.

Harry and his rescuer – if that was what he could be called – landed on the grounds of Hogwarts, tumbling away from each other during impact. Groaning with slight pain and dissatisfaction after several minutes of lying in daze, Harry pushed himself up from the ground, looking for the person who had interfered. He was flabbergasted to discover it was not none other than Gellert Grindelwald. "What the devil is going on here?!" Harry demanded, marching over to where Grindelwald was slowly pulling himself up from the ground.

"Better he be distracted by his own rage so that the others can make an escape, than have him cold and calculating, wiping them out one by one," Grindelwald replied, shaking his head as if to clear some mental fog. "As for how we ended up at Hogwarts; it's true what they say – you can't apparate inside Hogwarts – but that only applies to those magically weaker than the like of myself and Albus. We always were magically similar, you know; as much as he tried to deny it, I was only a shade less powerful than him. Not even Tom Riddle managed to equal us in magical strength – oh, he's powerful alright, certainly more powerful than any common Witch or Wizard; but not as powerful as he claims to be...or as others think him to be..."

Grindelwald might have continued, but Harry was no longer listening. He was distracted by a series of distant cracks, alerting them to arrival of Wizards and Witches. Harry, without a word, made for the gates of Hogwarts, ready to welcome his comrades back. Ron and Hermione came through the gates first, holding each other, looking a bit worse for wear and inexplicably sad but generally unscathed. Harry did not hesitate to pounce on them, embracing them tightly as they hugged him back.

But Harry's relief was short-lived as Remus strode through the gates, a limp body held in his arms. It was none other than Parvati Patil, her normally dark skin considerably paler than it had been earlier. Her head hung limply over Remus' elbow, her dark hair swaying with the motion of his stride. There was a graceful, if improbable curve to her spin. Harry stared, wide-eyed. He could hardly comprehend the fact that she was dead – and he would not have been able to had Padma Patil, heavily wounded, not been weeping as she was supported by an almost equally distraught Blaise Zabini.

Guilt and remorse flooded Harry. He was partly at fault for what had happened; his actions had helped rip a set of twins apart, as well as a flourishing romance despite inherent house differences. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione for an explanation as Remus strode past them, carrying Parvati's lifeless body. Hermione's warm brown eyes flooded with tears. "It was terrible," she whispered, half-burying her face in Ron's shoulder as he pressed her closer in an attempt to comfort her, though he was quite upset himself.

"When Padma was hit," Ron said, attempting to keep his voice level, "Parvati felt it – every single moment of Padma's agony and more, because of their connection as twins. She lost her concentration in the middle of a battle. I...we...tried to get to her. I swear we did! We just...we didn't get there in time. We reached her only seconds after the Killing Curse struck her." Unsettled, Harry stared off after Remus' retreating form; he had no idea that a connection between twins could be so powerful in the Magical world.

A selfish little part of him was glad that it had not happened to Fred and George. Harry could not fathom the idea that they would be separated – least of all by death. It was a horrifying and sobering thought and he realized that even Molly Weasley had never once imagined that they could be separated. Her boggart, during Harry's fifth year, had taken both of their forms simultaneously, refusing to show one after the other, as if that kind of horror had not even registered with her.

Harry's heart broke as he recognised what Padma was now going through; the death of one's best friend, sibling and soul mate all rolled into one. It was a grievance beyond all others, in Magical terms. Harry bit his lower lip and hung his head in respect of what Padma had lost. Harry, Ron and Hermione lingered, waiting until everyone had returned from Diagon Alley. Severus was the last to return, stalking through the gates like a jungle cat. As soon as he had spotted him, Harry hurried over.

Without much thought Harry threw himself upon Severus, wrapping his arms around Severus' neck – only to have the man wince, letting out a hiss. He had clearly been hurt, though he was trying desperately not to show it. Harry pulled back, eyeing Severus shrewdly. He silently dared the man to admit the truth, wondering all the while if he would continue staunchly deny the injury. But the man did not deny it; instead he enfolded Harry in his arms a thousand times more gently, resting his chin upon Harry's head. "Are you alright?" Severus asked in a soft voice – it was common for him to enquire about Harry before speaking about himself.

"Other than feeling guilty and confused; I'm fine."

"Ah...I suppose you want an explanation for what happened with your wand..." Harry hummed his agreement, but said nothing, waiting for Severus to continue. "Outside of speculation, I can't say exactly what occurred in Diagon Alley tonight, but I think...perhaps...it could have been your wand recognising the Voldemort's magical signature from continued exposure to it during battles. It is baffling and strange to think about, but it _is _possible; if the wand chooses the Wizard, why can't it also recognise the wand of another?"

"It does have certain _rightness_ to it, don't you think?" It was Severus turn to murmur in agreement. The sound reverberated through Harry's head. Harry pulled his back, tilting his face up so that he could look Severus in the eye. "How badly are you hurt?"

"Just bruising from my tousle with Bellatrix," Severus said, his upper lip curling in derision at the thought of the woman. "She gave me a good kick; I'm surprised her stiletto didn't puncture my abdomen – I suppose that was my Magic reacting defensively; it's done it on occasion against physical attacks."

"Can I...?" Harry started to ask, gesturing towards Severus' torso.

"Later," Severus replied sombrely. "I have to notify Ms Patil's parents of the tragedy that has occurred. Come," he finished, indicating that Harry should precede him to the castle. Harry knew this was because Severus was paranoid about leaving him open to attack, even while they were still on Hogwarts grounds, ever since the incident during the previous term. He found it to be a rather endearing quality; he treasured it completely, that harshly protective nature of Severus' in regards to those he loved.

The two of them crossed the distance between the gates and Hogwarts at a brisk pace and passed through corridors and up staircases until they reached the Headmaster's office. The portraits upon the wall were solemn – Dumbledore looked particularly sorrowful. Severus strode to the fireplace and opened up a floo connection with the Patil's household. The sombre expression on Severus' phase encouraged the middle-aged parents to step through the floo for a meeting after he requested their presence.

Harry did not wait in the office while the meeting occurred. Instead, he slipped into the bedroom, which had been redecorated to suit Severus' tastes upon his taking the position of Headmaster at the school. Stripping as quietly as possible, Harry made his way over to the bed. Harry settled under the sheets, making himself as comfortable as possible, willing to wait hours for Severus to join him, if it proved to be necessary. He was certain that it would be. While Severus was not a paragon of nice feelings, Harry knew that deep down he truly cared for the well-being of the students and that break such news to the parents would be a terrible for burden for him as much as it would be for anyone else.

When Severus finally did join him, his shoulders weighted down from what he had imparted upon doting parents. He never once looked at Harry as he begun taking off his clothes, struggling as his movements pulled at his chest. Harry did not offer assistance – Severus would not appreciate that – but he did offer a soothing touch when he sat down, coming to sit behind him at the edge of the bed. Harry brushed a kiss across Severus' shoulder and lightly ran a hand through his hair.

He did not ask how it went; he knew. The death of a child was not one taken lightly by loving parents – ever. The meeting did not go well; such meetings never went well and that was only to be expected. For some time they sat like that, Severus' resting his head back against Harry's forehead, before finally encouraged Severus to come into bed properly. They did not make love; it would have been highly disrespectful, but they did hold each other close. Wrapped up one another's arms, they slipped gradually into a slumber too deep for them to recall whatever dreams they may have had...

To Be Continued.

Shorter than usual, yes, but as you can see I've pulled a Fred. I think this is a good place to end the chapter.

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to leave a review. ^_^


	20. Chapter 20

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Twenty.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and patience and everything, guys! I really appreciate it! On with the show...

Chapter Twenty

Parvati's funeral was held two days after her death, lending time enough for her parents and sister to hold her wake. On the day of the funeral, the older students who had been friends and fought with her were granted permission to leave the school grounds for the length of the ceremony. At the end of the burial Harry made his way towards Mr and Mrs Patil, who were holding each other as they grieved, trying to ignore the urge to dig up the ground and be buried with their daughter.

Harry wanted to extend his sincerest condolences and apologies to them, though he knew they would mean nothing to them in the wake of their loss. Harry was only a few feet away when Mrs Patil looked up and spotted him. Her face contorted with anger, even as she continued weeping. "Get out of my sight!" she spat, throwing herself at him. Harry flinched as the tall woman fell upon him. He was not quick enough to avoid the harsh slap she aimed at his face; the impact sent him reeling backwards, but the words hurt him a thousand times more. "You don't deserve to be here! You killed her! You killed my ba-baby-y."

Her last word was broken by sobs as her husband caught her around the middle, hauling her away even as she buckled with her despair. Padma was making her way over as quickly as she could, supported by a crutch – she had not strength in the left side of her body from her hip down ever since she was wounded. Blaise was following close behind her. "Mum, stop it!" Padma's tone was full of scolding, despite her age. "Leave him alone! Even if Harry hadn't gone to Diagon Alley, we would have! What, would you have us do nothing and allow someone else's daughter, son, brother, sister die? For shame!"

Harry managed to stammer out his apologies, ignoring the sting in his reddened cheek and quickly walked away. He kept his head down as slipped through the gates. With a swirl of his sombre robes and a soft crack, he disapparated, returning to the school grounds. Severus was waiting for him just inside the gates. The Headmaster had, of course, been to the ceremony, but had not been able to stay for the burial; he could not be away from the school for too long and had had to return ahead of the others.

When Harry entered the grounds, he gave Severus a faint smile, though it was tainted with sadness. The man was not the least bit surprised. He did not ask how the burial went; a mind such as his could discern as much. "Will the war ever be over?" Harry asked quietly as the two of them, side by side, strode towards the castle.

"One would think so, regardless of the outcome," Severus replied, though there was no trace of amusement in his tone. "I presume the war will end sooner rather than later, Harry. Only two Horcruxes remain and we are that bit closer to destroying one of them."

"We are?" Harry was quite surprised. He had not given the Horcruxes much thought lately; his mind had been preoccupied with Luna, Dumbledore and Parvati's passing.

"Indeed," Severus uttered, casting a glance around to be sure they were quite alone. "Albus' last word was a Vault number at Gringotts – the likely resting place of Hufflepuff's cup. I've said before that Albus was exceptionally discreet when using Legilimency; the likelihood of Bellatrix realising he was looking for the location is quite slim. On top of that, during our brawl, one of Bellatrix's hairs transferred to my robes – I have collected it, preserved it and stored it for later use. We have all the ingredients we need for a successful plan – now all that we require is to design one."

"Oh..."

"Always so articulate," Severus said, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Git."

"Quite." Harry moved closer to Severus' side and elbowed him playfully. On another occasion the action might have prompted a magical rebuff, but considering the circumstances Severus decided to be a little lenient. "I would suggest that you send Thrasos to Grindelwald – I'm certain the flea-bitten nuisance will have no trouble finding his hiding place."

"Always such affectionate terms of endearment," Harry replied, mimicking his lover's tone of moments ago. Severus snorted in amusement, but said nothing in response, allowing Harry to continue uninterrupted. "Anyway, I know where he is. He's hiding out at Gryffindor Castle with Merlin and Regulus."

"What a charming threesome," Severus commented dryly, earning a laugh from Harry.

"I'd say. I bet Regulus has had his fill of sexual innuendos."

"A man like Regulus could never get enough of those." Severus chuckled, the sound of it warming Harry's heart. When they reached the castle, he and Severus retreated to the Headmaster's office for a brief game of chess before Harry was forced to return to Gryffindor Tower to work on his studies. Though the mood in the common room was sombre, Harry was partially grateful – it was easier to study when students were not being boisterous in his presence. Harry spent quite some time bent over his text books, but eventually he had to call it quits. Harry's brain could only learn so much at a go.

The day was exceptionally long, seeming to drag well into the late evening. Harry waited until the other Gryffindors admitted defeat and went to bed, leaving the Gryffindor Common Room empty save for himself. Ron and Hermione were out on their nightly Patrols – which Severus had allocated to all Head Students and Prefects, in the event that, if enemies did manage to break into the castle, someone would be there to sound the alarm. There was a patrol team on every floor. The teachers would take over at some point during the night, allowing the students to get sleep.

Once the Common Room was deserted Harry took out his quill, inkpot and parchment. In silence, he penned a coded letter to Grindelwald – he had become frightfully talented at doing such things since he had start continuously exposing himself to Severus' overwhelming intellect. He supposed that it was one of the more brilliant benefits of being in a relationship with such a man; one could not help but grow smarter around him, even if the increase in intellect was only marginal.

When Harry finished composing the letter, he summoned Thrasos and gave the letter to the dark Phoenix. Thrasos nuzzled Harry's head affectionately and disappeared in a flash of black flames. Harry stretched out on the couch, prepared to wait for the response. If the man was anything like Dumbledore, he knew Grindelwald was smart enough to decipher the message and send a response quickly enough. He was certain that the man was good with time management, if nothing else – after all, he had once been a Dark Lord.

Harry was, of course, exactly right. He received Grindelwald's response in good time. Opening the missive with one hand, he gently stroked Thrasos' head with the other. In silence, he read the letter, informing him that he would see him in the Headmaster's office at seven on Saturday morning and that he should bring one person that he could trust to help with the mission they would be planning for. Harry knew of only two Wizards that could possibly help with the execution of this plan; Severus and Draco, both of whom have spent a great deal in the presence of Bellatrix Lestrange.

However, Severus could not be taken away from the school for too long; he had to remain as much as possible. Hogwarts castle was the last bastion of hope remaining in the Wizarding World; the Ministry had already fallen. Severus, while he would never be the perfect Headmaster, was the right man for the job at the present time; Harry was certain he was the only one who could hold up against the onslaught the school would face now that the Dark Lord's forces were in control of the world outside these walls.

That left Harry with only one option that he could trust, considering the severity of the situation at hand; Draco. Harry would wake Draco early in the morning and drag him to the meeting with Grindelwald, whether the blond liked it or not. He was certain Draco would be willing, of course; the war effort needed everyone's help if they were going to be at all successful. Harry sighed and rose from the couch, stretching, even as Thrasos retreated upstairs ahead of him. Yawning, Harry incinerated the note from Grindelwald and headed up to the seventh year dorm room.

Undressing at the side of his bed, he allowed his worn garments to fall to the floor, before climbing into bed, pulling the curtains closed. He settled under the blankets, closed his eyes and slipped into slumber with his love for Severus on his mind. His dreams were pleasant, filled with Severus' eyes and voice and touch and when he woke the following morning he felt refreshed. At half six in the morning, when he finished dressing, Harry went up to Godric's room and knocked sharply on the door. He waited for several moments, looking down at his shoes contemplatively.

Several minutes passed before finally the door was pulled open. Godric, wearing only a pair of jeans, stood in the doorway, muscles chiselled and gleaming in the sunlight. His dark mane was an absolute tangle of knots. Harry could not help grinning in amusement, even if he felt slightly nauseous, knowing that Draco and Godric had been getting freaky at the top of Gryffindor Tower. "Who is it?" said Draco's groggy voice. It was quite obvious that Harry had disturbed him from his slumber.

"It's Harry," Godric said over his shoulder, before looking expectantly at Harry. "What is it?"

"I need Draco to get dressed and come with me to the Headmaster's office; I need him to help plan for something."

Draco groaned in the background and there came a soft rustling. He was obviously getting dressed, much as he would like to stay in bed with Godric. "I hate you for this," he said, shimmying past Godric to step out onto the staircase. His white shirt was only halfway done up. Small bruises, evidence of Godric's love and passion for him, were dotted here and there across the blonde's torso. Harry did not stare; he knew very well what it was like to be marked by the one he loved.

"I know," Harry said, half-laughing. "Come on, then." The two of them waved at Godric, before heading down the staircase. Draco continued to button his shirt as they did so. The journey to the Headmaster's office was quick enough, for they made use of as many shortcuts as possible. Grindelwald was already waiting for them in the Headmaster's office. Severus was seated behind his desk, looking austere in the high-backed chair. All of the former Headmasters and Headmistresses were awake in their frames, watching the scene before them.

"Good of you to join us," Severus said, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards slightly. He indicated the two chairs in front of his desk. Draco and Harry took their seats, making themselves comfortable. "Do you know why you are here Draco?"

"Vaguely," Draco replied, snorting.

Severus looked at Harry, black eyes glittering. "What? I was going to tell him when we arrived, but you started talking," Harry said, grinning cheekily at the older man.

"Of course," Severus answered sardonically, though he was amused, judging by the light smile that graced his mouth. The man turned his gaze on the blonde beside Harry. "Draco...Harry and Mr Grindelwald will need your help most desperately in the coming days." Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but stayed silent, waiting for Severus to continue. "The four of us will need to formulate a plan...in order to break into Vault three-hundred-and-five at Gringotts Wizard Bank."

Draco shot up from his chair, his face turning exceptionally pale in the morning light. "No," he snapped, backing away from the Headmaster's desk, "I won't help you. I can't! What you're thinking of...it's...it's...it's bloody insane! Don't you know what kind of terrible things happen to the Wizards who try to take things from Gringotts when they don't belong to them?!"

"Draco," Severus said imploringly, leaning forward in his chair. The man's dark eyes did not leave the boy's face. "The only other person that could help them is myself; but I can't leave this for any great length of time – you know this! If I could, I would do so without question. I wouldn't bring you into this if I had any choice in the matter."

"But surely Lord Slyther –"

Grindelwald shook his head sharply and spoke for the first time. "Lord Slytherin knows nothing of the mannerisms of Bellatrix Lestrange; you do! That is why it is imperative that you help us. One of us must impersonate her, if we have the slightest chance of getting into that vault. I am going to help you get back out without getting killed or seriously injured; I will do my best to keep the pair of you out of harm's way. We must break into that vault if we want to have any chance of winning the war."

So, the truth was revealed. The brevity of the situation had been made clear to Draco, who stared in stunned silence at his two elders. He ran his hand back through his hair, looking as if he might try jumping out the window if it meant avoiding doing something as drastic as infiltrating Gringotts. Harry understood completely; Goblins were not the friendliest of beasts and they were vicious when it came to the protection of all the gold and jewels and other riches that sat in the vaults below the surface of the earth.

Draco's chest heaved heavily as he considered his options. Eventually, however, his shoulders slumped and he hung his head. "Fine," he said quietly, emotionlessly. "I'll help you. I'll do whatever you need me to do." He raised his head suddenly and gave Grindelwald a hard look. "But you must promise me...promise me that you will do everything in your power to keep my...to keep _me_ safe." But everyone in the room had heard his little slip. Harry looked at Draco, confused, while Grindelwald blanched, a look of surprise crossing his face.

The portraits began whispering to each – they had always been the most horrendous little gossips. Severus was the only one whose expression gave nothing away and that confused Harry more than ever – as if the two of them were in on something. He then remembered the conversation on St Stephen's Day. The looks they had shared...the stony silence. Harry grew quite suspicious all of a sudden, Godric's words from Christmas day crossing his mind. _Anyway, you have one of the most accomplished Potions Masters in the world as a lover; I really don't think you'll be missing out on children in the future, Harry._

The pieces started falling into place. The only reason Draco would make such a slip would be if he was not worried so much of himself as someone else...or something else. _Sweet Merlin, Draco couldn't be pregnant...could he...?_ Harry's emerald gaze dropped, eyeing Draco's slender abdomen. It was a frightening, disturbing and wonderful notion all at once – not the least being that he could very well be an uncle in the coming months! "Draco..." Harry began hesitantly. "Are you...?"

"Shut up," Draco hissed, turning away from them all. The reaction alone was confirmation alone.

"Will the _Polyjuice_ affect...?" Harry trailed over, not quite sure how to continue the question without it sounding silly and nonsensical.

"We will take measures against that," Severus assured quietly. "Your progeny will not be harmed in the transformation process, Draco. You have my word." The seriousness in his tone left absolutely no room for doubt and something in Draco relaxed at the sound of it. He had truly been fearful for the safety of his young, still new and tiny and barely there. Harry tried not to stare at Draco's abdomen, but he could not help. He was so...curious. What did it feel like? Had he realized straight away that he was pregnant? Or had it been a gradual process?

Harry knew nothing about all of that, but his mind clung to Godric's words. Those words gave him hope that perhaps a family with Severus was not beyond the reach of his fingertips altogether. He clung to that little glimmer of hope with all that he had, his gaze swivelling around to Severus, who, after a moment, looked at him in return. Harry had been the only one to know the man's deepest desires, the ones he would not show to anyone, even under threat of torture at the hands of his enemies.

He could see those desires swimming in the obsidian depths of Severus' eyes, before they were submerged, vanishing from sight. Harry's heart clenched in his chest as he relished the knowledge that his desires were matched by those of the man he loved. He could hardly believe that Severus wanted the same for their future, despite the man's typical attitude towards the typical children that ran amuck through the distinguished corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry took that little bit of knowledge and he stored it away in his mind and in his heart. He would keep it safe so that one day...one day it could become a reality when this thrice-blasted war finally came to a close. The Order had to be victorious for their desires to become a reality and Harry would make sure they would do so...

To Be Continued

Feel free to tell me what you think, guys!


	21. Chapter 21

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Twenty-One.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews and patience, my lovelies!

**Important Notice: For extremely personal reasons I am putting my fan fictions on temporary hiatus. I am NOT abandoning this fic or the readership. Please keep that in mind when you start to get irritated about the lack of updates...**

Chapter Twenty-One

Harry, Draco, Grindelwald and Severus spent a number of days making plans to infiltrate Gringotts, refining them slightly every few hours – particularly when Dumbledore made suggestions from his portrait on the wall. It was settled that they would make their break-in attempt two weeks from the date they finished planning – to give each of them an adequate time to rest, relax and take a break from the mounting stress. A week out of the two had passed, when Severus found Harry and Draco in the library, bent over their school studies.

Harry looked up when he saw the tale-tell billowing of Severus' robes in the corner of his eye. He nudged Draco with his leg, causing the boy to look up – he had been engrossed in a text on elemental transfiguration. "Good morning, Professor," Harry said cheerily, adding a little wave in his enthusiasm. Severus rolled his eyes, but Harry could tell by the quirking of his mouth that he was amused or pleased by Harry's display. "Is there any particular reason why you were looking for us?"

"Yes, of course there was," Severus groused in response. "Stupid boy..."

Harry said nothing about it, but he had noticed that Severus' tone had lost its usual bite. It was obvious that the man was a little tired – and with good reason. Being the Headmaster of such a prestigious school had to be taxing on one's state of mind; there was so many things that Severus had to take care of. Draco snorted and shook his head. "You've gone soft, Professor; your words don't carry their usual bite. One might even think you were fond of him," Draco teased. "For shame!"

Severus gave him a glare so dark that the blond boy fell silent rather swiftly. Harry wanted to laugh, but he refrained at the last moment; Severus did not need that. "I was wondering if the pair of you would be willing to assist me," Severus continued as if the pair of them had not spoken. "The two of you are the best duellers in your years and I was hoping you could provide a..._demonstration _for the younger years."

"Like in our second year?" Harry asked, his nose crinkling in distaste at the memory.

"Yes, only this time you'll be waving liquorice wands around," Severus retorted, a derisive sneer curling his lip. It was clear the memory of that year was as sour for Severus as it was for Harry. "Of course not! Neither of you are a replica of that buffoon. I want the pair of you to have a real duel for the students. I want you to show them how dangerous the real world is; to encourage them to study and practice as best as they can. I want the pair of you to fight as dirty as you can and use as many aspects of your different subjects as possible during the demonstration – just don't kill each other."

"Are you giving us licence to use Dark Magic on each other, so long as neither one of use dies?" Draco asked, frowning up at the stern professor.

"Yes, but not the Unforgivables – I don't want them to think either of you are criminals – but Dark Magic will be acceptable, to a point. They need to know what they'll be up against one day; Voldemort isn't the first Dark Lord and he most certainly won't be the last."

Harry and Draco glanced briefly at each other. "When would you like us to do this demonstration?" Harry asked, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline.

Severus smirked. "Immediately," Severus replied. "Years one through five already seated in the Great Hall. We're waiting for you."

Harry harrumphed, before sighing, packing up his belongings. "Come on, then, Draco." Draco, muttering about Headmasters taking advantage of their connections, stowed his books away. Harry chuckled and gestured for Severus to precede them to the Great Hall. Draco and Harry followed Severus down from the library, through the castle, to the Great Hall. The tables had been moved down to the other end of the room, stacked against the wall. The students were seated in tiers down the length of the hall on both sides.

The centre of the room had been cleared, to make room for their duel, which would surely be vigorous and filled with dangerous curses the likes of which the younger years had never even heard of, let alone witnessed. "Draco," Severus said quietly, reaching into one of the inner pockets of his robes. "Drink this elixir; it will protect your unborn during the duel." Severus withdrew a small vial of glowing liquid, pressing it into Draco's hand with the slightest trace of a smile on his lips.

Draco offered his thanks and downed the potion a moment later as Severus took a seat among the students, standing by in case healing would be necessary. Harry and Draco took up position facing each other. There were perhaps thirty feet between them. Harry's face was a mask of determination, as was Draco's. Both of them would do their very best to give the students a demonstration that would be etched upon their memories, based on the skill shown, the danger behind it all and the ferociousness that would be employed during the duel – which would end up looking more like a battle; there were no rules in war.

Several moments passed, where Harry and Draco eyed each other, wands gripped tightly in their hands. The tension in the room increased as silence encompassed the area. The students were watching with baited breath, waiting for one of them to make the first move to start the duel. Suddenly, Draco whipped his wand out, a nonverbal spell shooting out the end of it. It was a simple _Disarming Charm_, which Harry blocked easily, following his defence up with an _Acid Hex_, a _Disembowelment Curse_ and a _Trip Jinx_ in rapid succession.

Draco blocked the first, whirled out of the way of the second and leapt over the third as if it was a skipping rope – it earned a laugh from the watching students, but the laughter soon died as the duel quickly became more intense. Harry and Draco were tossing aggressive spells back and forth at each other, snarling and growling all the while. To the students watching the duel it looked as though Hogwarts' most notable current students were trying their very best to kill each other.

It was a gruelling duel; the duellists matched each other spell for spell as they incorporated Dark Arts, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Transfiguration into their spell-casting. The Great Hall was illuminated in blues, greens, reds, yellows, oranges and purples. It was beautiful and terrifying simultaneously. At some point during the duel – Harry was not exactly certain when – Godric, the other Founders and some of the other members of staff slipped into the Great Hall to watch the demonstration.

Harry was slightly distracted by their entry and that was all that Draco needed. A spell slammed into Harry's torso, sending him flying backwards. He collided with the wall, pinned there by an invisible force. It pressed at his throat, like a large hand, cutting off his oxygen. Severus looked as though he wanted to intervene, but he stopped himself, remembering that he had wanted Draco and Harry to play dirty. Harry's legs scrabbled against the wall, trying to get purchase so that he could push the force off.

Students were holding the breath – they could not believe that Draco was trying to strangle Harry in front of almost the entire student body. Pinned against the wall as he was, Harry closed his eyes, pushing everyone else from his mind. He focused his mind and magic even as his lungs started screaming out for oxygen. A tingle of magic ran down through Harry's body and an invisible energy blast struck Draco, sending him flying backwards, landing on the stone floor with a pained grunt.

The pressure was released and Harry fell twenty feet down the length of the wall, falling forward as soon as his legs struck the floor. The blessed air rushed back into him, causing him to cough but he forced himself to concentrate on the duel even as he spluttered. Harry hit Draco with a powerful _Disarming Charm_, ripping the wand from Draco's hand though the blond struggled to keep his grip on it. Harry caught his flying wand in one hand and then stunned Draco for good measure.

The students burst into applause and cheers, glad that Harry had emerged victorious, despite the gash in his leg, his dislocated shoulder and a burn on his arm. Draco had fared just as bad as Harry had, if not worse. Harry turned to Severus and waved Draco's wand triumphantly. "How'd we do?" he asked, a tired smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Severus smirked and tilted his head forward slightly, giving him his approval. Harry grinned triumphantly and then removed the _Stunning Charm_ to awaken Draco.

Draco raised his head from the ground and glared at Harry. The look was ruined by the smirk that crossed his mouth, however. "Well done," he said quite reluctantly. "I still think I could take you under normal circumstances, you know." Harry stuck his tongue out at him and hobbled across the Great Hall, offering his hand to Draco. The blond accepted his hand and Harry hauled him up from the floor, almost toppling over backwards in the process, earning a burst of laughter from Draco...

θθθ

After healing Harry and Draco when their duel came to an end, Severus retreated to his office. He sank down into his wing-backed chair, leaned his head back and allowed his eyes to drift closed. He heard the portraits muttering to each other, but he paid them no mind. He was tired; he had gotten hardly any sleep the previous night. His bed felt alarmingly cold and empty without Harry in it, but he would rather die than admit it aloud. On top of that, watching the duel had been taxing.

Severus had been tempted, during numerous points in the duel, to step in and tend to Harry's injuries. He was getting too old and too attached for this war; he knew it in his bones. "Severus, stop that negative thinking," Albus chided from his portrait on the wall. "It doesn't help anyone." Severus opened his eyes, turned his head and aimed a dark glare at Albus' portrait. If there was one thing he hated about being Headmaster it was that he was forced to see Albus on a daily basis and did not have the liberty of telling him to be quiet. "Don't look at me like that, my boy; you know I'm right."

"I'm sure you'd like to think so," Severus snapped, drumming his fingertips upon the desk in front of him. "Merlin knows you never listened to anyone's advice during your lifetime; you were convinced of your own brilliance." Albus remained silent in response and Severus raised a brow, feeling triumphant for having finally silenced the irritating old codger. The man had been brilliant, of course – but even the most brilliant men were not infallible and sometimes had to listen to the advice given by others.

Albus had never been one for any of that. Albus' plans had always been the only ones worth merit and everyone else's ideas were left by the wayside. Shaking his head, Severus turned away from the portrait. He busied himself with reading over the reports from the various faculty members in his employ. He compiled a list of advisory notes for amendment of the school curriculum, which he would send to a trusted official at the Ministry for Magic – they were so few in number these days, ever since Scrimgeour had been killed at the start of the year.

Quite some time passed before Albus finally dared to break the silence once more. "How did this morning's demonstration go? Were Harry and Draco eager to participate?"

Severus paused during his compilation of notes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly. "Of course they were," Severus said, a hint of a growl making its way into his tone. "Teenagers would take advantage of any occasion to blast each other off their feet in front of a crowd of adoring fans."

"But who won?" Albus enquired, his voice filled with a quiet urging. Both of them knew how important the outcome of the demonstration had been.

"Harry did, of course. Are you happy now, Albus? Another of your plans has reached fruition and Harry is now master of the Elder Wand. It won't do him an ounce of good if Voldemort doesn't manage to get his skeletal hands on the damned wand, though, so I'm not sure why you, in your brilliance, were so intent on following this plan to the letter. If you had asked me, I would have informed you that it was a ridiculous plan from the beginning and had a slim chance of succeeding."

Phineas Nigellus Black snorted in his portrait, but refrained from commenting while Armando Dippet sighed wearily. It was clear the portraits were getting quite sick of the recurring bickering between Severus and Albus – though Albus remained perpetually serene and calm throughout the entirety of their verbal battles. It was one of the most fundamentally irritating things about the person that Albus had been. Severus would have preferred him to rant and rave like a madman, rather than sit there with that benign smile on his face and a twinkle behind his crescent-shaped glasses.

Severus had a feeling that their arguments entertained Albus more than the man had ever let on in life – or death, as the case may be. "Don't be such a pessimist, Severus," Albus chided lightly. "If we are to have any chance of winning, we must first believe ourselves capable of doing so. That is the half the battle, in the end, that inner belief that you will come out of the war triumphant."

"That's easy for you to say, Albus; you're already dead," Severus snapped harshly. Silence reigned in the Headmaster's office as soon as the word's tumbled from his lips. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt as though he had swallowed a particularly bitter lemon as he listened to the pure silence that echoed around him. "My apologies, Albus; I took that too far." Severus hardly ever apologised, so the incident was noted by all of the portraits in the room.

Albus chuckled warmly, pushing his glasses up on his nose with one slender finger. "Don't worry, my boy; I've heard worse insults in my life time. Furthermore, I understand that you are under a large amount of stress – equal, if not greater than, the stress that I had to suffer while sitting in that chair. Tell me...does the blasted thing still give the seated blisters when the Headmaster works over time?" Albus'' blue eyes sparkled with amusement as Severus began grousing about the thrice-blasted wing-backed chair...

To Be Continued

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	22. Chapter 22

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Twenty-Two.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and patience guys, read on!

Chapter Twenty-Two

_Tonight's the night_, murmured a soft voice in Harry's head as he sat at the Gryffindor table for dinner. Draco was sitting opposite him, eating a bowl of soup as elegantly as any Malfoy Patriarch-To-Be would. Heavy foods would not mix well with the protective potions he would have to imbibe before taking the _Polyjuice Potion_, according to Severus. Harry eyed the blond discreetly as he cut into a well-done steak. In truth, he was worried about the Slytherin prat; if he had known the boy was pregnant, he would never have considered involving him in his plan to break into and out of Gringotts.

It was too late, now. There was little more that either of them could do about it, save to keep going with their plan and hope that it would be a success. When Draco glanced upwards from his spoon, Harry focused his attention on his steak, potatoes and gravy, trying his best to ignore the swell of nausea that rose within him when the smell of tripe met his nostrils after it wafted down the length of the table, from where Seamus was apparently enjoying himself with the horrendous cuisine.

Harry managed to eat half of his dinner, before the stench grew too much for him. Swallowing down the burning bile that was shooting up his throat, Harry almost fell in his scramble to get up from the bench, virtually sprinting down the Great Hall, escaping out through the double doors. He crossed the Entrance Hall and burst out through the front doors, taking in a deep breath of the fresh clean air. After several long moments, his roiling stomach slowly began to calm down. "Alright, Harry?"

Harry almost jumped out of his skin at those words, but once he got himself under control he looked over his shoulder, to see Hermione standing behind him, with a smile. "I'm fine – just felt a bit sick. Seamus' tripe smells disgusting, as I'm sure you know." Hermione gave him an understanding smile, though there was something in her eyes that Harry was not quite able to decipher. "Why?" Harry asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Nothing in particular," Hermione replied, shaking her head. She moved forward, coming to stand beside him. She linked arms with him. "I was only wondering, because you were sick this morning and yesterday, too... Have you gone to Pomfrey about it yet? You could have a bad stomach bug..."

"You're being unusually hesitant, Hermione; it's not like you, at all. What's the matter?" Harry asked of her, his tone slightly sharp. He looked down at his bushy-haired friend, eyeing Hermione suspiciously just as he had been doing when she was behind him.

"If you have to ask, you'll never know," she answered cryptically, taking a leaf out of Dumbledore's book. Harry sighed and shook his head, looking off towards the distant hills. They stood in silence for a long moment before Hermione spoke again. "You and Draco have been planning something." It was not a question, but a statement. Harry did not feel compelled to answer; he knew she knew that she was correct. "I hope both of you know what you're doing; if you get yourselves killed, I'll resurrect you just so that I can kill you myself!"

"Don't worry about us, Hermione. We're well-sorted. Yes, what we're planning is really tricky, but we have some great Wizards on our side; we're sure to succeed." Hermione gave him a shrewd look, but eventually conceded that she could not always be the one to get Harry out of trouble. She hugged him tightly then, telling him to be careful. Harry hugged her in return, grateful for the familiar sensation of bushy brown hair tickling his face. "You worry about me too much sometimes, Hermione."

Pulling back, the girl snorted in amusement. "Harry, I don't think I worry enough about you," she teased, poking him in the chest. "Come on," she continued, "whatever you're planning...you need to eat properly before you fulfil those plans." With that, she practically hauled back inside, dragging him back to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Harry knew she had a point, but he did not want to face that ghastly smell of the tripe again. He cast a _Bubble-Head Charm_ around himself and his plate, ignoring the strange looks people gave him.

When dinner was done, Harry and his friends returned to Gryffindor Tower. He and Draco worked on their studies for some time, waiting for the Common Room to gradually empty, before finally they were the only ones up. Harry summoned his faux-wand and his invisibility cloak from the seventh year dorms and he and Draco left Gryffindor tower under its protection. They travelled through the school slowly, to ensure that they were fully covered by the cloak so that they would not seen by any patrolling students or professors. They did not need to be sidetracked by a trip to the Headmaster's office.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, Grindelwald was waiting for them, shrouded in dark robes. Draco muttered a greeting to Grindelwald, who perked up instantly, gaze focusing upon where they stood though he could not see them. As Draco greeted him, Harry transfigured his faux-wand into a replica of Bellatrix's wand – in case they needed it for security purposes. "Ah, the infamous cloak," Grindelwald said, a hint of approval creeping into his voice. "Family heirloom, boy?"

"Yes," Harry replied quietly. "Now, come on." Grindelwald grinned in amusement at Harry's impatient tone, but complied. The man opened the doors, allowing Harry and Draco to slip past him before stepping outside himself, pushing the doors closed behind him. Together, the three of them made their way across the school grounds. Grindelwald could have disapparated while still on school grounds, but they figured the extra time to let Diagon Alley's traffic slow down could be beneficial to their plans.

They slipped out of the school gates and after Harry and Draco latched onto the former Dark Wizard, the three of them vanished with a soft pop. Grindelwald was obviously trying to be as discreet as possible when they entered Diagon Alley. They popped into existence in the shadowy doorway of a closed shop. Grindelwald reached into a pocket of his robes, withdrawing a plain flask – quite similar to the one that Crouch had used while he was impersonating Moody during Harry's fourth year. "The hair has already been added," the man murmured, his lips barely moving, the sound of his words barely reaching Harry and Draco's ears.

Draco reached into his own robes and retrieved a small vial of the potion Severus had supplied him with. He downed the potion, waited a moment and then accepted the flask of _Polyjuice_, taking a good long swig of the stuff. Draco just managed to get the flask shut and into Harry's hand before it began to take effect. His skin bubbled as his hair, eyes and limbs changed shape and lengths. Harry covered his mouth, to muffle any sounds that Draco might make – Harry knew that it was absolutely ghastly stuff.

When the change was complete, Harry removed his hand swiftly, alarmed at how easily Draco assumed the role of his demented aunt, who was glaring murderously at him. Draco took the transfigured faux-wand that Harry offered him and proceeded to transfigure his attire into something that Bellatrix would wear. "Wish me luck," he said, his aunt's disturbing voice meeting Harry's ears as Draco gave him one of her trademark psychotic smiles. Harry wanted to punch him for being such a bloody good actor.

Draco slipped out from underneath the cloak, his dark feminine clothing blending expertly with the shadows surrounding them. Harry hissed for Grindelwald to get under the cloak, but the Wizard grinned darkly. "I don't need a cloak to become invisible anymore." With that, he vanished without a trace, leaving Harry and Draco staring at the spot where he had disappeared. Suddenly, they were both poked in the eye. They muttered a curse, simultaneously reaching for their eyes with their hands. "Come on, boys."

Waiting a moment for the shock of being poked to die down, Draco assumed the role of his aunt and stepped out from the shadows, embodying the word sinister without any effort at all. Draco strode down Diagon Alley, seemingly without a care in the world. With Voldemort in charge of the Ministry, it was clear that Bellatrix could prance wherever she felt like doing so. Invisible, Harry and Grindelwald followed close behind Draco, _Silencing Charms_ removing the sounds of their footsteps.

Draco sauntered into Gringotts and went to the nearest teller, his invisible companions following after him. Draco spoke to the teller and, though at first the Goblin did not seem inclined to take him down to the vault – as if he thought Bellatrix was being impersonated - a hauling of the Goblin over the desk and ramming of the wand against his throat, with a not so subtle threat hissed in Bellatrix's voice did the trick. The other Goblins were decidedly not looking in their direction, though it was clear his behaviour was disliked. It was to be expected.

The Goblin that Draco harassed led them to a cart. Once Draco was nestled inside the cart, it left Harry and Grindelwald precious seconds to bundle themselves in after him. The Goblin got in at the front and their roller coaster of a journey through the tunnels began. They climbed, they fell, they spiralled and they looped before heading onto a straight course. Harry spotted the flickering of a falling waterfall in the distance and pinched Grindelwald's arm, hoping the man saw what was ahead of them.

Harry need not have worried, however. The man had seen it before he did. Grindelwald whipped out his wand and quickly stunned the Goblin. Harry prevented the poor fellow from falling off the cart as it sped towards the waterfall. A flourish of a wand later and the cart hurtled off the edge of track. Harry quickly latched onto the Goblin and the cart through the cloak. Draco clutched the cart tightly with both hands and let out a girlish scream as they careened through the air, dodging the waterfall by barely a millimetre.

Harry had a brief moment to think about how absolutely unnerving it was to hear Bellatrix Lestrange scream in terror. The cart landed back down upon the track with a jolt and continued upon its previous course. Grindelwald doused them all in plain old water and used a _Memory Charm _to plant a memory of the cart passing through the waterfall, before reversing the effects of the _Stunning Charm_. The journey continued without a single moment of suspicion in the Goblin. Harry knew that Goblins were clever...but Grindelwald was one of those few very exceptional Wizards.

The cart eventually stopped next to a ledge which housed a single vault – the vault of Bellatrix Lestrange. Draco, the Goblin and the others climbed out of the cart. The Goblin was quick to open the door to the Vault and Draco strode inside, the others close behind him. "As usual, Madam Lestrange, I will wait outside," the Goblin said, bowing lowly. "I am only a call away, if you need any assistance." The door to the vault closed behind them, leaving Draco and company completely alone.

Harry whipped off the invisibility cloak, even as Grindelwald negated the effects of his powerful _Disillusionment Charm_. "Have you been in here before, Draco? Does she have a special signal? Do you know it, if she does?" Harry asked hurriedly, keeping his voice down. Draco nodded three times, indicating a positive answer to all three of the questions. "Alright, then; let's go searching. We're looking for a small golden cup, with Hufflepuff's emblem on it."

"Don't touch anything, if you can help it," Grindelwald warned, eyeing the mountainous riches darkly. "A _Geminius Charm_ will be enabled if you do so and they will burn us, while continuing to multiply. They crush us to death. If you find the cup, send up sparks and the rest of us will come over. Don't touch the cup straight away; we will first need to ensure that it can be safely handled and removed from the vault." The two boys nodded and the three of them separated, taking a section of the vault each.

Harry's eyes climbed towers of gold, stared through hangings of silver jewellery and saw many other items as he searched for the cup. It was he who, eventually, found Hufflepuff's cup. A happy grin danced across his mouth and he sent up sparks, alerting the others to his discovery. Draco and Grindelwald were quick to return to his side. The three of them gazed up at the cup, which sat at the top of a tower of gold, looking down on them all - much like how Voldemort looked down up the world.

Grindelwald raised his wand and gave it a flick, summoning the cup, but allowing it to hover in the air before them. He duplicated the cup and sent the fake to the top of the tower of gold. Then, the former Dark Wizard concentrated upon the true cup, muttering a string of Latin under his breath as he weaved a spell around the cup. He released the magic and the cup fell into his waiting palm. It did not burn him, nor did it multiply. Harry's grin broadened and Draco smiled in relief.

For the first time ever, their hair-brained schemes had worked. Now, all they had to do was get out of the building without attracting attention. _It shouldn't be too hard_, said a voice in Harry's head. _If you got in, you can get back out_. Draco took another swig of the _Polyjuice_, just to be safe and pulled a pouch full of galleons from his robes; to complete the image of someone who had visited their vault for something. Grindelwald shrank the cup and slipped it into an inner pocket of his robes, before.

Harry hid himself under the cloak once more, as Grindelwald vanished from sight. Draco, holding the pouch in his hand, headed for the entrance to the vault and tapped, three times, upon the door. A moment later it was opened by the waiting Goblin, who watched Draco slip the pouch back into his pocket. They all bundled themselves into the cart and it took them back to the lobby; the waterfall was not a problem this time, fortunately. Draco and his two invisible companions disembarked the cart and left Gringotts Wizard Bank.

Draco strode down Diagon Alley and disapparated, once he felt Grindelwald and Harry taking a hold of him, turned as if he were about to disapparate – but in reality it was Grindelwald who disapparated, bringing them right through the wards, landing the three of them inside Severus' office. Severus dragged his obsidian gaze up from his paperwork, not even blinking at the sight of Bellatrix Lestrange standing in his office. "Welcome back," he said calmly as Harry and Grindelwald became visible once more. "It went well, I take it?"

"Extremely," Harry said, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm glad I got you guys involved in the planning for this; had it been me, Ron and Hermione all hell would've broken loose!" Severus smirked and turned his gaze to Grindelwald, who was retrieving the cup from his pocket at that very moment. "We're almost there, Sev! _We're almost there_!"

Severus nodded in agreement. "Yes...we are exceedingly close to the end of this." The man rose from his chair and came around the desk, holding his hand out for the cup. Grindelwald gave it to him. Severus shuddered when the darkness of Voldemort's soul touched his skin, but Harry could tell the man was making an effort to ignore the way the Horcrux made him feel. "I think we should keep the Horcrux whole for now; the more we destroy, the higher the risk that he will realize how close he is to being destroyed. It would bring the final battle down on our shoulders faster than we can prepare ourselves for it."

Harry wanted to destroy it as soon as possible, but he did understand Severus' reasoning behind the decision to wait. When Grindelwald agreed, Harry went along with it. Severus placed the cup into a drawer in his desk and proceeded to cast a number of enchantments and wards to prevent discovery and theft. Once the _Polyjuice_ wore off, Draco and Grindelwald left the office, leaving Severus and Harry alone. Harry smiled at Severus and disappeared into the next room, leaving Severus to decide when he wanted to join him.

Lately, they had not had much time for themselves, between planning, studying for the NEWTs and dealing with official business. Severus took care of the rest of his paperwork, before finally joining Harry. They were glad to have some time for themselves, at last. When Severus entered the bedroom, it was to find Harry lounging on the bed, wearing naught but his knee-high Gryffindor stockings. Harry felt a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth when Severus paused in the doorway, adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"See something you like?" Harry casually enquired, watching as Severus' eyes darkened further.

"I always see something that I like," Severus replied, his voice deeper and rougher than normal. "It all depends on whether I'm willing to go to great...lengths to acquire it."

"And are you?"

Severus smirked and popped open the first button of his robes, not missing how Harry focused in upon the action. Harry always loved seeing Severus fiddling with the buttons of his robes; there was something distinctly mesmerising about it that Harry could never find the words to explain. "Always," Severus remarked, clearly enjoying the fact that Harry had perked up at the sultry whisper. He stepped towards the bed, his every movement like that of a jungle cat...

To Be Continued.


	23. Chapter 23

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Twenty-Three.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and patience, everyone. ^_^ You're going to hate me...but read on, my lovelies.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The days of February were passing swift enough and it was now Valentine's Day. Headmaster Snape had wanted classes to continue as normal, but he had been beaten down by the other Professors, who had all unanimously thought that the students deserved a day to forget about classes...to forget about everything going on...and have a few hours to themselves. The man had been left in a severely bad mood afterwards and was clearly beginning to regret his ascension to the position of Headmaster.

The knowledge of having the day off from class work – he had taken over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor upon Headmaster Snape's promotion – had left Godric with a happy feeling. Godric had wanted to take Draco out for the day, but the young blond had not been up for it. He had not wanted to ruin it by having to run off to throw up at irregular intervals. Godric, though a little disappointed that he could not sweep him off his feet with clichéd romance, respected his mate's decision. As a result, Draco was leaning back against Godric's chest, the two of them having a joint picnic with Helga, Rowena and Salazar.

Initially, it was meant to be just the four of them, but Salazar had slithered his way in. Godric knew, however, that it was because the man felt a little left out, though it was nothing the proud Founder would ever admit to. He thought Salazar should just give in and go to Merlin, whose advances had been made quite plan during the winter holidays. His fellow Founder was far too particular to do so. Salazar would rather make his own choices, than give into the affections of a man who claimed they were destined to be together.

Godric glanced down at the platinum blond head resting against his chest and his arm tightened, fractionally, around him. He would not have been able to bear it if had Draco begun to think that way. He had no idea how Merlin had managed to refrain from going mad. If he had been consciously alone for a thousand years, Godric would never have been able to cope, but he supposed that Merlin received benefits from being a Cambion. Every time a Witch or Wizard invoked his name during coitus, Merlin received a burst of live-giving sexual energy, no matter where he was in the planet or what time of day it was.

Godric brushed a kiss against the top of Draco's head, glad to feel the warmth of him against his torso. Helga gazed across the picnic blanket at them, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Who knew you were such an affectionate person?" she asked teasingly. Godric stuck his tongue out at her, much to the amusement of the other Founders. Draco reached for a bundle of grapes and devoured them in silence, while Godric and the others fell into a comfortable discussion about the Magical discoveries of the recent centuries that they had all been reading about since they had first been awakened.

Sometime later as late afternoon was beginning to approach, Rowena was in the middle of fawning over the work of Adalbert Waffling, the magical theoretician who had died sometime during the First Wizarding War, when Salazar looked down at his pocket watch. "Ah, my apologies, ladies, gentlemen," he said suddenly, causing everyone to stop and look at him in surprise. "I have an appointment with the Headmaster. I am very nearly late!" Salazar rose from the picnic blanket, half-bowed to the others and took off, his steps hurried.

Godric's eyes followed after him, narrowed in suspicion. For some unfathomable reason, Salazar's words did not sit well with him. He was not certain that Salazar had been telling the full truth about his reasons for having to leave early. He vowed to confront him about it later that day, when there was no one else around, in case something unsavoury should surface...

θθθ

Harry sat upon his usual chair in the Gryffindor Common Room, bent over his homework. He had wanted to spend the day curled up in bed with Severus, but the man had turned him away as soon as he had entered the Headmaster's office. The man would not have time for him until well after dinner that evening; Severus had too much to be getting on with, to pander to the desires of a hormonal seventeen year old. Grumbling under his breath about the incident, Harry lifted his head and briefly eyed the box of chocolates that had arrived not long after he had returned to the Common Room. He had not read the card or opened the box yet, but he assumed they had been sent by his love as some sort of apology.

Harry tore his gaze away and focused upon his work. He would not dive into the chocolates until his work was finished, no matter how much he wanted to gorge on them. Ron and Hermione had snuck out of Hogwarts, using one of the secret passages. From what he had heard of Ron's plans, they were sneaking off to Upper Flagley. Apparently, there was a nice restaurant there, which was not nearly so suffocating in its romance themes as Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. Harry hoped the two of them would be careful, considering how much of a dangerous world was sitting outside the gates of Hogwarts.

Dobby brought Harry a snack when his stomach started rumbling, making him wonder whether the House-Elf had started watching him and why he would do so, if that was the case. The snack consisted of a few slices of bread, a knob of butter, a bowl of French onion soup and a tall glass of pumpkin juice. Harry gladly took a break from his work to concentrate upon the snack that Dobby had brought him. He thanked the House-Elf profusely, earning a hug from him. When Dobby finally went away, Harry began buttering his bread.

Harry had finished his soup and bread and was halfway through his glass of pumpkin juice when a wave of nausea washed over him. Covering his mouth, Harry ran for the bathroom. He almost did not make it into a cubicle. He heaved his guts up into the available toilet bowl. This was happening more and more frequently and if he were being totally honest, he felt like he was dying every time he had to curl himself around the toilet. Whatever illness he had, it was certainly trying to get him to purge every ounce of nutrition from his body.

When he finally stopped heaving, he flushed the toilet and pulled away from the bowl. He curled up on the floor, letting his heated face rest against the ice-cold tiles. Some time had passed when he heard the cubicle door creak open, revealing the worried face of young Donatello. "You need to visit Madam Pomfrey," he said, tone firm, if concerned. "Come on, get up." Donatello reached down to pull Harry to his feet – an easy feat for him, in spite of the difference in height.

The young Werewolf marched Harry out the door, pushing him whenever the older Wizard tried to get out of it. Harry really did not want to go Pomfrey over something so stupid and trivial, but he did not want to face an angry Werewolf either. In the end, Harry conceded that visiting Pomfrey would be the lesser of the two. He encouraged Donatello to let him go on his own, however, and after much arguing the matter, Donatello left him alone. Harry crossed the distance between Gryffindor Tower and the Hospital Wing in good time.

Harry stepped into the Hospital Wing, closing the door gently behind him. There were no students unfortunate enough to have landed themselves in the Infirmary as of yet, which was a good thing for Harry. He crossed the room and knocked upon the door to Madam Pomfrey's office. Harry was only forced to wait the barest moment before the door was pulled open. Madam Pomfrey looked out at him, an open book still in her hand. "Oh, Harry; what can I do for you?" She snapped the closed and sent it levitating over to her desk, which was behind her.

Though he knew there was no one else there, Harry could not help but glance around surreptitiously before looking at the Medi-Witch. "I was wondering if you could run some tests; I've been feeling nauseous and throwing up for more than two weeks now..."

Madam Pomfrey's brows knitted together as she frowned at him. "Lie down," she ordered firmly, gesturing towards the beds behind him. Eyebrows lifting in surprise, Harry did exactly as he was told. He watched her, nervously, as she conducted an array of tests. Pomfrey's frown deepened with every examination she did. "Clear of bacterial and fungal infections," she said, before starting another long stream of incantations. Her mouth thinned infinitesimally. "Clear of viral infections. There are only a few more tests I can do that might have caused what you mentioned."

Growing even more troubled with every spell, she checked off her final list of examinations, until only one option remained. She conducted the test and a little pink orb of light shimmered in the air above Harry's abdomen. "You too?!" she demanded in surprise, almost dropping her wand.

"Me too, what?" Harry eyed her, worry flashing across his emerald eyes.

"Pregnant!"

Harry stared at the Medi-Witch, hand covering his abdomen almost instinctually. He could hardly believe what the woman had just told him. As he stared at Madam Pomfrey a string of snippets of conversations that he had had with Draco, Godric and Severus started flashing across his mind in rapid succession. His green eyes hardened in an instant, his hands curling into fists. "That slimy fucker," he snarled. Pomfrey scolded him for his language, but he hardly heard over the wave of his own emotions crashing on him. "I'm going to kill the bastard!"

Harry got up from the Infirmary bed and stormed out of the Hospital Wing. He was going to punch Draco in the face and then rip Severus a new one. It was their fault that he was in this predicament and on top of that, they had deliberately lied to him or told him half-truths, just to keep him out of the loop. Harry took all the shortcuts that he knew of and found himself in the Entrance Hall before long. Luck was with him that day, for Draco was on his way in from the outside, Godric, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff in his wake.

Draco's face paled as Harry crossed the hall in record time. He barely had the chance to duck out of the way when Harry took a swing at him. "Hey," Draco snapped, "What the hell's your problem?!"

"You know what the problem is, you baby-wanting snake!"

Draco's eyes widened in realisation as Harry tried to punch him again. "It's not my fault you raided my ice cream! I tried to stop you, you ass! And really? Baby-wanting snake? That's all you could come up with?"

"Blame the hormones," Harry groused, scowling at the platinum blonde. Draco snorted in amusement and shook his head, a burst of laughter bubbling up from his chest. "It's not funny! Why didn't you and Severus just tell me what was going on? It would have spared you a lot of trouble; I wouldn't have been half as utterly pissed off as I am now," Harry said pointedly, still fuming as they stood in the Entrance Hall, eyeing each other. Godric came to stand behind Draco, hands resting lightly upon his shoulders. It was clear that if Harry tried to strike Draco again, Godric would interfere on his behalf.

Draco raised his hands in surrender. "I wanted to tell you straight away. That's what Severus and I were arguing about the day after Christmas. I wanted to tell you, but he didn't – on the off-chance that you hadn't imbibed enough of the potion to become pregnant. It was only a spoonful, after all. He really was looking out for you; he didn't want to cause you any unnecessary stress...with everything going on, you know. If you have a problem with it, take it up with him and leave me out of it."

"Fine," Harry said, pointing threateningly at him, "but if you think, even for one moment, that I'm going to let you off the hook that easily, think again. I'll get you another time." Harry hurried out of the Entrance Hall, crossing through the castle as quickly as possible, until he found himself running up the steps to the Headmaster's office. His temper had calmed some by the time he rested his hand upon the door handle, though it had not quite dissipated. Harry opened the door gently, not wanting to startle the man and have him curse him as soon as he saw a body.

The office was empty. Frowning, Harry crossed the room, ascended the staircase and opened the door to the other room, where Harry knew Severus's bedroom to be. He froze in the door, his wind rushing out of him so fast one might have thought he had been kicked in the gut. His grip tightened instantly on the handle as he stared at the sight that met him. Severus was naked, his hair still dripping wet from a shower that he had obviously taken not long before Harry had come up the stairs...but he was not alone.

Lord Slytherin was pinned up against the wall by the nude man, looking at Harry in both surprise and horror. His expression must have alerted Severus, for the Headmaster whirled around, black eyes glittering with some unnameable emotion, droplets of water being flung through the air by his wet hair. Feelings of rage and hatred and betrayal raced through Harry's mind and body. His magic reacted to the sight instinctively; several books were set alight, a number of ornaments shattered, littering the floor with dangerous shards.

"It wasn't what it looks –" Severus managed to say, before a blast of magical energy struck him. Wandless, Severus was sent crashing to his knees by the burst of energy, glass and ceramic shards embedding in his flesh. If it hurt him, he was incapable of showing it, for his hands rose to clutch his throat. Something was preventing him from drawing a breath and though his body fell into desperate paroxysms in the attempts to gain oxygen. His face was growing steadily redder from the deprivation of air.

"Harry, stop it," Slytherin said, his tone quite frantic as he moved towards the Boy Who Lived. "You're killing him!" Harry's green eyes dragged themselves away from the naked, suffocating form of his love and landed upon the Founder of Slytherin house. The blond man blanched at the look in Harry's eyes and took an automatic step back. Fortunately, when his focus was drawn to another person, Severus was released from the magic's hold on him. The Headmaster crumpled, hands landing on the floor, sucking in air in great gulps.

Harry, his head, heart and soul in utter turmoil, turned his back on the scene and walked away, half-using the wall to steady himself. He could hardly believe what he had just witnessed and yet the evidence was etched into his mind's eye permanently. There were tears streaming down his cheeks before Harry had even managed to leave the Headmaster's office. The portrait of Dumbledore expressed deep concern at the sight of him, but Harry silenced him without a thought. He could not bear to hear the sound of the old man's voice, not when he was in such turmoil.

There was movement behind him. A hand grabbed Harry's arm. Harry spun around, his fist colliding with Severus' large nose. The dark-haired man reeled backwards in surprise and pained, hand rising to cover his nose which Harry had just broken, judging by the sickening crunch that echoed through the office. "Keep your filthy fucking hands off me," Harry spat, glaring at the man who had once been his lover, "you...you cheating slut!" Harry felt a grim satisfaction when he saw the blood dripping down Severus' face from his broken nose and down his legs from the cuts that the shards had caused.

"Harry, you don't understa –"

"I understand plenty!" With that, Harry turned away from him and disappeared through the door, heedless of Severus' voice calling out for him. Severus eventually stopped following him, however; the stern professor would never be caught naked out in the distinguished corridors of Hogwarts, not when any number of students could have stumbled upon him. Harry fled from the vicinity of the Headmaster's office and hid himself away in the Room of Requirement, where only those who knew him would find him if they got worried.

He threw himself down at the chair and desk that the room provided for him. Harry dipped the available quill into a pot of ink and began harshly writing across the parchment in front of him. Words poured out of him in synchronisation with his tears. Harry always wrote lyrics, now, whenever his heart bled. Joining the choir had proved to be a good move; it helped him turned destructive energy into some productive that could, later, be shared with other people in a safe manner.

He was certain that Draco, Ginny and Daphne would be able to come up with a good melody to accompany the lyrics Harry was now composing. They tended to share the burden these days; Harry did not hog the composing too much anymore – much to the others' relief. While composing the song he was working on, he was forced to make the parchment and ink impervious to his continuously falling tears...

To Be Continued.

I know.

Feel free to hate me in your reviews! ^_^


	24. Chapter 24

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Twenty-Four.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Note: The Luna section happens the morning after the first section, in case you were wondering ^_^ I know you hated me during the last chapter ~_^ I feast on your feelings.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ron and Hermione were utterly frantic by the time they found Harry. He had not returned to the Gryffindor Common Room and he had not shown up for breakfast or for his classes. The first was not so unusual, but the second was a dead giveaway that something was terribly wrong with their friend. When they found him, it was immediately obvious that he was upset; he was staring into the fireplace in the Room of Requirement, a shot glass of Firewhiskey held limply in the hand that sat upon the armrest of his chair.

"Harry?" Hermione said, her voice rising with every syllable. Harry could tell she was worried, but he did not answer her. He continued to stare into the fireplace, at the roaring fire within. He was hoping the furious heat and glaring brightness of the flames would burn the lingering images out of his mind's eye. It was a futile hope, of course, but he clung to it regardless. He did not want to think that the sight of a nude Severus pinning Slytherin against the wall would stick with him forever. He could not.

Bitterness and hatred and pain flared within him again as the image fought to be seen again, fought to torment him again. Harry raised his glass to his lips. He knew drinking was a bad choice, now that he was pregnant, but the alternative was not having something to focus on. He could not bear it. Hermione lunged forward with a loud gasp, slapping the glass out of his hand, a rather panicked expression on her face, before the amber liquid could pass through his lips. Harry dragged his emerald gaze up to her face and he knew, in an instant, that she _knew_ about his condition.

He could not find it in him to hate her for keeping the knowledge from him. He loved her too much, though he supposed that should make everything worse, considering how much he was starting to hate Severus...though he loved him too much, too. A bitter smile tugged at the corners of Harry's mouth. "I guess I should thank you for protecting me," Harry said quietly. Hermione's brown eyes shined in the firelight and he knew that she was aware that he knew about his condition. Harry his gaze away from her and looked at his gangly ginger friend. "Congratulations, Ron; you're going to be an uncle."

Ron stared at Harry, his one biological eye comically wide and the other magical one whizzing about as if it was having a fit. Then, his face started going red as an expression of anger came over him. "I'm going to kill Dudley! How dare he put his filthy hands on my little sister? Of all the bloody stupid things he could have done, he chose that?! After I threatened him?! That _fucker_! When did Ginny tell you? Has she told mum yet?!" Ron continued to rant for several minutes, until he gradually came to the realization that Harry and Hermione were both looking at him incredulously, as if they were wondering how he could have ever thought they were talking about Ginny.

Ron started going green, looking distinctly ill. He had obviously figured out that Harry had been referring to himself. Ron might have come to terms with Harry's previous relationship with Severus, but it was quite another thing to be told that a boy could be pregnant. Draco had not yet told the others about his own condition. Harry supposed it was for the best, for now, if this was the reaction he would get. Harry shook his head and laughed, a spike of amusement shooting through him.

"That isn't all that's wrong, though, is it?" Hermione asked, her voice quivering as if it might fall to a whisper at any moment. "You would be happy, otherwise; you've always wanted a family..." Harry shook his head and turned to look at the fire once more. He did not want to talk about this and yet he knew his friends would not rest until they understood what was going on with him. His bushy-haired friend dropped to her knees by his chair, grabbed his hand and held tight; all of it a gesture to assure him that _she was there for him_, always.

Looking at her, Harry wanted to crumble up and weep. He wanted to run away and never face her again. He wanted to beat the crap out of Severus. He wanted to kill Slytherin. He did none of those things. Instead, he pulled out his wand and fixed the shot glass, summoning it to his hand. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't shatter my glass this time," Harry muttered, reaching for the bottle of Firewhiskey that Kreacher had acquired for him earlier. He had not had much of the beverage – only one or two shots.

"Harry, whatever's going on...drinking isn't the answer," Hermione said sharply. She was scolding him now, just like she always did when he did things she disagreed with. Harry snorted, but refrained from making a catty comment. "It's only going to cause damage; you don't want to hurt the baby, do you?" Harry paused when he finished pouring out a shot for himself, his hand wrapped around the glass. He opened his mouth to say something, but Ron beat him to it unfortunately.

"Hermione's right, mate," the ginger said awkwardly, the tips of his ears burning bright red. "If you explain to us what's going on, maybe we can help you?"

"You can't help me, Ron – and even if you could...I don't want to talk about it," Harry groused, a scowl forming on his face. He had no way to know, but the expression was quite reminiscent of that of his former lover.

"You might not want to, but you need to," Hermione said gently. "It's not healthy to bottle it all up inside – it's what you did in fifth year and you kept exploding at everyone..."

"Yeah, well, that was different," Harry snapped hotly, his temper quickly rising. "The only person I'm likely to explode at is Severus!" The rage boiled hot and heavy within him and he flung the glass into the fireplace in a temper. The glass exploded violently, the amber liquid catching fire in an instant, erupting into a ball of flames that was both terrible and beautiful. Harry's eyes stung as hot, angry tears welled and spilled down as his cheeks. Harry's hand shook as he reached to wipe the evidence away, but his friends had already seen them.

"Mate...what did he do?" Ron asked, his freckles stark against his now pale face.

"Who did he do, more like," Harry replied bitterly, hanging his face. Hermione's scandalised face might have been funny, had the situation been different. "Yeah, that's right," Harry continued, his voice sounding particularly choked up. "Severus ch-cheated on me. Me!"

"You're kidding..." Ron said, an awkward laughing bubbling up from him. "This is a joke, right? You can give it up now..." Harry lifted his head and gave Ron a look that made him take a step back. Hermione was glaring at the insensitive lout. "Merlin, you're serious..."

"Of course, I'm fucking serious!"

"Harry, calm down," Hermione interjected sternly, rising quickly as Harry jumped up from the chair, pressing her hands against his shoulders as he made to rush at his best friend. "It's not Ron's fault. What you've just told us is both shocking and horrible. We wouldn't _ever_ have suspected it of him; you've seen how loyal he is!" Harry snorted but Hermione kept talking. "Now, let's look at this rationally – don't give me that look; you know you're prone to impulsiveness. Is there any chance that what you thought you saw isn't what actually happened?"

"Have you ever caught Ron, naked and wet, pinning another girl to the wall of his bedroom?" Harry demanded fiercely. The boy in question made an audible choking sound as Hermione stared at Harry, her brown eyes wide and bright with shock and horror. She covered her mouth with her hand. She looked like she might be ill.

"I'm going to kill him," Ron said. There was none of the redness of face or the contortions of anger this time. There was no rage evident in the gangly teenager's tone. His voice was calm and cold; a rarity in Gryffindor House. Ron turned away from his friends, heading for the door, his wand already in his hand.

"Don't bother," Harry called after him, even as Hermione ran to grab hold of his arm, halting his motion. "I already tried..."

"He's not invincible."

"No, he isn't...but even if he's a fucker," Harry and Ron both snorted at how literal that comment was while Hermione blushed crimson, "he doesn't deserve to be jumped by a psycho ginger." Harry shook his head. "What time is it anyway? Has choir practice started yet? I need to speak with Daphne and Draco; I need their help. I wrote a few songs song last night, but I won't be writing the melodies." Harry was starting to ramble now, but he was not certain whether it served as a distraction for Ron or himself.

"It's just after dinner..."

"Good. Brilliant; it won't be long now until I can go to the Choir room."

"Harry..."

"Hermione," Ron cautioned, reaching out for her wrist.

"Ron, it's not like I'm going to hit her or something," Harry said pointedly, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, well, distraught people don't normally act or think rationally," the ginger replied wisely. Hermione looked up at him. He smiled wryly down at her "Always the expression of surprise." For the first time since Harry had walked in on Severus with Slytherin a true laugh bubbled up out of him, pulling his mouth into a grin and brightening his eyes. The armchair behind him morphed into a couch. Hermione pushed him down onto it and sat beside him, Ron following suit. They truly would be there for him, no matter what...

θθθ

Luna sat in silence in the dungeon, her hand held tightly in Rolf's. Ollivander was resting weakly at Rolf's other side, leaning heavily into his grandson's shoulder. She knew the older man did not have much left in him; Voldemort had been using him as his object for torture for weeks. Luna knew it and yet there had been nothing that she could have done, save pray that Ollivander would try his best to keep knowledge of the Elder Wand out of the Dark Lord's grasp. If Voldemort got his hands on it...there would be little hope of victory for the Light Side.

But in the end, Ollivander had caved, after days and days of endless torture. He had given in. He had spoken of the Elder Wand, of the powers that it supposedly possessed. Voldemort had left the building almost immediately, a hungry and panicked expression on his serpentine face. Ollivander had cried in Luna's arms when he had been returned to the dungeons. She had held him and spoken soft words of comfort to him, but it did not take away from the guilt that Ollivander was suffering from. She knew the wand maker would not feel better until the Light Side destroyed the dark, once and for all.

Luna had patiently waited through every passing minute of every torturously long day, wandlessly sensing for other Magical cores and enchantments outside of the dungeon. Every day, the number had been too high to risk an escape. Luna knew that they could break through the enchantments, but they could only take on so many enemies in a duel. It would be even more difficult, now, because Luna was the only one of their number to have regained the ownership of her wand.

Closing her eyes, she allowed her core to reach out, to sense what lay beyond the dungeon. With a jolt, she realized that there were only two or three Death Eaters remaining in the household. Her eyes snapped open and she jumped up from the ground, whipping her wand out from the hem of her robes. "Get up," she quietly ordered of the two men at her side. "This is it; this is our chance to get out of here once and for all! There is a limited number of Death Eaters in the building. If we work together, we can rip through the enchantments in the dungeons."

Rolf looked up at her, his eyes virtually lifeless. It was clear he could hardly fathom what she had just said – he had conceded to the thought of being trapped there forever, some few days ago. It was Ollivander who propelled him upwards, his pale eyes filled with new hope. She caught the taller man as he stumbled forward after being pushed to his feet by his grandfather. Rolf's hand grazed Luna's cheek in a brief, if tender, caress...almost as if by accident. Luna's cheeks flooded with colour and she pulled back as an embarrassed smile crossed Rolf's mouth.

Luna took his hand and he took Ollivander's. She coughed to clear her throat and said, "We only need to take down the enchantments for surveillance and sensing. If we take down too many, the Death Eaters may be alerted of our escape attempt too early." The three of them closed their eyes, their faces taking on a hard look of concentration. Luna felt her powers mingling with that of the others. As one, they sent their magic out in a surge, assaulting the enchantments violently, tearing through the necessary layers, but leaving the others intact.

She cast a _Feather-Light Charm_ on Ollivander and Rolf hoisted the elderly man up onto his back – the three of them knew that he would never make it, if he had to run. Luna spun to face the wall opposite the door, raising her wand steadily. "_Reducto_," she said, almost a soft whisper. The curse she used was the very opposite of a whisper, the explosion of pent-up and violent magic colliding with the wall viciously, causing stone and mortar to explode out into the world outside. It was a good thing, too; she would have hated to cause injury to the others.

Sunlight, blessed and glorious burst in upon them, forcing Luna to turn her face away from harsh brightness of it, though she loved the heat that washed over her skin. She felt like crying in relief and happiness as the fresh air rushed towards her, filling her lungs. Luna accompanied by Rolf and Ollivander ran out into the world outside. The grass was soft and springy beneath their feet, touching against their legs as blades sneaked up under their robes. Luna gripped her wand tightly as they sprinted.

The perimeter of the wards were at the other side of the property, a good distance away. It would be a lie if she thought they were not determined enough. There were shouts echoing behind them; their escape had been made known. Without hesitation, she flung an _Acid Hex_ back over her shoulder. Judging by the cry of pain, it had struck someone. Luna ran with all the more speed, Rolf keeping pace at her side, Ollivander bouncing up and down upon his back. It would have been a comical sight had their situation been different.

Luna heard an animalistic growl behind her and whirled around, wand aiming straight between the eyes of a Werewolf in human form a distance away. She thought of all the horrible things that had been done to Ollivander over the course of their incarceration and the lifeless look that had been in Rolf's eyes. Rage and hatred on their behalf filled her, coursing through the veins and the words were torn from her throat before she could truly think about them. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

There was a flash of brilliant green and the Unforgiveable collided with the oncoming Werewolf, whose expression morphed into one of shock a split-second before the spell sent him flying backwards. The body lay lifeless upon the ground and Luna stared, not quite able to believe what she had just done. She might have stood there for hours, had a warm hand not grabbed her wrist, pulling her away. In a moment Luna was running again, her hunger for freedom taking over her again, though she knew her actions would have an effect upon her later.

There were harsh sounds of apparition meeting her ears, though Luna and her friends were almost to the edge of the wards. It figured that the Death Eaters would be able to apparate in and out, while they were trapped inside. Luna flung more than a dozen hexes and jinxes and curses behind her and followed them up with an immense and powerful _Shield Charm_, which provided some protection as Luna and the others sprinted towards their freedom. As soon as they crossed the border, Luna grabbed onto her friends and disapparated with a loud crack, though not before a spell struck her...

To Be Continued.

Feel free to let me know what you think, guys! ^_^


	25. Chapter 25

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Twenty-Five.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks for reading and reviewing, guys! On with the show!

Chapter Twenty-Five

A _Caterwauling Charm _sounded the moment Luna and her friends apparated into existence on the Weasleys' property. While they were tied into the wards due to their presence at Bill and Fleur's wedding, it still alerted the household's owners of the unannounced intrusion. The moment Luna's feet touched down on the ground, she relinquished her hold on Rolf's and Ollivander's tattered robes, toppling sideways. The robes she wore were steadily being drenched by the rising surge of blood blooming out of her chest.

"Luna!" Rolf cried, his tone rising quickly to panic levels as he deposited his grandfather onto the ground. Rolf fell to his knees beside her, hands immediately going to her chest, trying to stem the flow of blood. Her vision was swimming, her heart was pounding against her ribs and her blood was rushing through her ears, almost deafening her. She clutched at his hand...his arm. She wanted...she _needed _something to keep her anchored. "Look at me," he urged. "Keep looking at me!"

Even as he spoke to her, there were a series of apparitions all around them and a door slamming open. Molly Weasley, barrelling out of the Burrow, let out a choked scream of fright as she raced across the ground. Luna was quickly surrounded by gingers and a stunning blonde, all of them wearing identical mixed expressions of relief and panic – relief at seeing them all alive and free, panic at seeing Luna in her current state. "I'll let Xenophilius know," Arthur said, disappearing in an instant, even as Bill Weasley slipped his arms beneath Luna's back and knees.

"We'll take care of you," Bill whispered against her dirty and straggly head of blonde hair, briefly resting his brow against her temple. She clung to him and Rolf equally, trying to fight back the tears that were mounting. She usually never cried...she was usually so adjusted to physical harm and the possibility of death, but it was different now. Something had changed. Everything had changed. She was afraid to die. She was afraid to go where her loved ones could not follow. She was afraid to be alone.

She had had enough of darkness.

Fleur, in her thick French accent, informed her that she would let her friends know that she had escaped. Luna nodded and then almost everyone was disapparating, the majority of them accompanying Luna, Bill and Rolf. Molly was pulling Ollivander into the Burrow, to gradually reintroduce him to food and water and softness and warmth – everything that had been non-existent while they were in the Death Eaters' clutches. Bill brought Luna to St Mungo's, barging through the Accident and Emergency area, calling out frantically for help.

All of them knew which curse she had been struck with. Hermione had been hit with the same one during the Battle at the Department of Mysteries. She had been hospitalised for weeks and weeks afterwards. The girl still had the scar and Luna knew that she would have one, too; for once they would have something – other than political beliefs – in common. She was seen to immediately, the Healers and nurses going into a panic at the sight of her blood-soaked robes. Rolf had been bullied by the nurses into leaving her side, but Bill refused, claiming stubbornly that they were family.

Bill stayed with her, holding her hand tightly, when the Healers brought her to a private room, away from all the other patients. The robes were magically removed by the people attending to her. Luna could not find strength enough to feel embarrassed at her state of undress in Bill's presence. As it was, he was a happily married man with a stunning wife; he would not be looking intentionally in the first place. Bill's brothers were outside the door, armed with wands and frightening expressions; Luna would not have crossed them.

Luna knew that, while Healers were under an Unbreakable Vow to try to heal and save everyone that passed through their doors, the same could not be said for nurses and other patients. Until she entered a safe house or returned to Hogwarts, she was still in danger and so was Rolf, who was keeping Bill's brothers company. Luna's heart swelled with the notion that he had not left the hospital...that he had not left her. He had not left her, just as she had never once left his side during their incarceration.

True, physically she could not have moved far...but emotionally...psychologically...she could have moved very far away...and she had chosen not to. She could never have done so without any enormous amount of guilt weighing down upon her. That was what mattered; the fact that she had stayed. As the Healers worked over her, casting spell after spell and forcing a multitude of concoctions down her throat, she was barely aware of it. The only thing she was aware of was the hand that held hers in a vice-grip, anchoring her.

The Healers stopped the bleeding, jump-started the clotting and bound her torso up in bandages, but it would take many weeks and mountains of potions to be fully healed. They would keep a consistent eye on her throughout her stay at the hospital, but she was glad that the panic had ebbed. She was supplied with fresh, clean robes and her skin was bathed in cleansing and anti-bacterial magic. The Head Healer, followed by Bill and the other Healers, went out to talk to the Weasleys, Rolf and her father who had arrived some time during the healing process. His blond head was the first to burst through the door, robes billowing around him.

He was a sight for sore eyes. Luna could not help it, then; she gave in to her tears, loud sobs choking their way out of her as he closed the door and hurried across the room. Rolf and the Weasleys were allowing them to have their time together, as father and daughter. Xenophilius climbed into the bed, gently manoeuvring her so that he could sit behind her, cradling her to his chest. In the privacy of that hospital room, the two quirky blonds clung to each other and wept in ways neither of them had done since the death of Luna's mother when she was nine.

"My Luna," he whispered, stroking her hair and peppering kisses all over her strained face. "Daddy's here." This was something not even Hermione had had the luxury of doing when she had been wounded in her fifth year. She had been unable to tell her parents; she had not wanted to frighten them. Luna could not imagine the immensity of the girl's loneliness, having to lie there in her hospital bed, day after day, without the comfort of her parents' touch. Luna could appreciate the struggles she must have gone through.

Hours passed and gradually, taken over by exhaustion, Luna and her father fell into a heavy slumber, still clutching each other protectively. She was too exhausted to have nightmares, but Luna knew that they would not leave her alone forever. No one could escape what she had escaped and come out psychologically healthy. She was changed – whether for better or worse was irrelevant. Time would tell, in the end. She just hoped her friends would be able to stick with her like she had stuck with them.

After half a day and a night of slumber, Luna finally woke up. The sight of a familiar face met her. The dark hair...the large nose...the many-buttoned robes...they were all painfully and wonderfully familiar. "Miss Lovegood," he said softly, from the chair beside the bed. The tone was warm, welcoming – something she was not accustomed to hearing from the man. "I must confess that a trusted friend and I _were _in the middle of plotting your rescue, though there were hundreds of variables that resulted in a high margin of failure. We never once forgot about or gave up on you, I swear it."

Hearing those words were a blessing. Normally Professor Snape never went out of his way to speak kindly to students outside of his house, but she appreciated the effort he was taking, considering its rarity. Luna raised a heavy hand and rubbed weakly at her face, fingertips brushing over her eyelids, which were sore from her weeping the previous day. "I was convinced the Order wasn't going to help...time went by and nothing happened...and...I knew Harry needed to be watched...more than I needed to be rescued. How is he, by the way? Has he been?"

A brief expression of pain flashed across the former Potions Master's face, before vanishing from sight, alerting her that something was wrong. "Mister Potter is...fine," Snape said slowly, almost reluctantly, his dark eyes unfathomable. "No, he hasn't been to visit; I didn't give him permission to leave the castle, considering the situation that our world is in. He will be the first to welcome you back to the school, when you return, however. Miss Granger, Miss and Mister Weasley have all been to see you, thought, so that is some compensation. They are...morbidly worried about you. It is no less than expected."

"What happened between you and Harry?" Luna enquired, her voice filled with concern for her friend.

Snape's jaw tightened and a muscle in his cheek twitched. "That is not up for discussion, Miss Lovegood; please refrain from inquiring further."

"Sorry..."

Snape snorted, a momentary smirk of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No, you're not. Now, need I remind you that it's to your benefit to do exactly as the Healers order, while you remain here?"

Luna tiredly shook her head. "I'm not the stubborn mule, here."

Instead of rising to the bait, Snape simply replied, "good. Then there won't be any problems. Professor Slytherin and I have begun working on the potions that will be administered to you over the course of your healing; we're trying to make them work more effectively, at a faster rate, so that you will be released quicker. We have high hopes for success," he assured her when she tensed. "I know that you don't want to spend too much time trapped away in here, without means of walking in the sunshine..."

Luna's breath hitched at the thought of being without that blessed sunshine for another minute. The walls were already beginning to close in around her, trying to suffocate her. The Wizard in front of her snapped his fingers and a small window burst into existence above her bed. Glorious sunlight fell through the glass, landing upon her bed, warming her and soothing her sudden sense of claustrophobia. "There's not much more I can do, without the Healers getting irrationally angry with us," Snape commented.

Luna almost thought she saw the man wink slyly at her, before rising from the bedside chair. She convinced herself that she must have been hallucinating. "I believe there's a young man waiting for me to take my leave, so I shall do so. Farewell, Miss Lovegood; I look forward to seeing you return to Hogwarts." He inclined his head towards her and strode from the room, his dark robes billowing around him as they usually did. Luna had never thought that it would have been such a welcome sight, but it was.

For a moment she wondered what young man Snape had been referring to, but she soon got her answer as Rolf walked through the door, shutting it behind him. He had obviously been dragged off by one of the Weasleys, for he was freshly washed and wearing robes that were slightly too baggy for his slender frame. He was fidgety, but that was alright...she understood. She tried to push herself up from where she was limply resting against her father's torso, but he shook his head and raised a hand to stop her. "Conserve your strength," he said gently. "Don't waste energy that could be used on helping the healing process."

Luna swallowed thickly and fought the urge to turn her face away. He still cared; even though he had witnessed her kill someone, regardless of whom it had been. As if he could read her mind, he settled into the chair by the bed, bringing it quite close and caught her hand in both of his, squeezing warmly, tightly, soothingly. "Don't worry about that." His gaze caressed her face as if she were the most treasured thing in the world. "Before this war is over, more than one good person will have done something terrible – myself included," he said firmly.

Rolf lifted her hand carefully, bringing it slowly to his face. His eyes drifting closed as he brushed a tender kiss against the skin on the back of her hand. Luna's stomach filled with butterflies as her cheeks flushed with warmth. "Don't get any ideas," Xenophilius warned suddenly, catching both Luna and Rolf by surprise. "My Luna's still sixteen for another month."

Startled, Rolf looked up from Luna's hand. A soft smile spread across his mouth. "I wouldn't dream about it, Mister Lovegood; I respect your daughter more than you could ever know." Xenophilius harrumphed – highly out of character, though it _was_ the virtue of his daughter they were discussing in that moment – but said nothing more in response. Just like Luna, Xenophilius knew when someone was being utterly honest with him. It was a trait that had marvelled Luna's mother, though the girl had never understood why.

Luna's cheeks tinged with pink as Rolf continued to gaze at her, as if he were afraid that she would melt into thin air if he looked elsewhere. "Stop staring at me," she said, tearing her face away, embarrassed.

"Alright, but make sure you remember that I'll wait for you...however long it takes."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"I'm not trying to flatter you."

"Could have fooled me," Luna replied, snorting in amusement. It was a rare bit of pleasant banter that she cherished. Anything pleasant was better than what they had suffered through during captivity. "You should go home...spend time with your family..."

"They'll still be there when I do leave...I have time enough to be with you."

"You've been in my company since the start of January; you must be sick of me by now."

"If I was, I wouldn't be here."

Luna turned her head back and she looked at Rolf again, eyeing the way his thumbs were lightly caressing the skin of her hand. Tremors were running through her; she felt like jelly at his touch. "I think you've lost a few marbles."

"Maybe I didn't have them in first place." When the young man smiled, her heart started racing painfully in her chest. She did not like these sensations one bit and yet she would have been outraged had they decided to disappear. Slowly, the man dragged his gaze away from Luna, looking at her father instead. In a more serious tone, he said, "your daughter is one of the bravest people I've ever met. She's a credit to your family, to Hogwarts and to the Wizarding World."

"I don't need to be told that," Xenophilius replied, his voice tinged with pride and amusement. "I know my Luna's brilliant."

"That, she is," Rolf replied, his warm tone filling Luna's cheeks with warmth again...

To Be Continued.

This chapter is a bit shorter than normal, but I like where it ended.

Feel free to let me know your thoughts! ^_^


	26. Chapter 26

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Twenty-Six.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks for reading/reviewing guys! Love you all. On with the show!

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Great Hall was quiet, waiting for the Choir performers to emerge from the side room. Harry was not performing this time; he was sitting at Gryffindor table, waiting with the Ron and Hermione. Though he did his best to ignore the man, Harry knew Severus' eyes were upon him, watching him for some unfathomable reason. Almost subconsciously, Harry rubbed his palm against his abdomen even as his shoulders twitched under Severus' inspection. When the door opened, Harry twisted on the bench, to watch.

Draco, a piano levitating ahead of him, came out first. It was still early enough in his pregnancy for his magic to still be functioning properly. August, Donatello's friend, was next, with his drum kit and his blue hair. Dean Thomas followed the first year student, guitar in hand, and a fourth year Slytherin girl came with a violin. Susan Bones was the last, her red hair gleaming in the candlelight. They were all wearing their usual school robes and did not seem the least bit out of the ordinary. Harry was not surprised; he knew exactly what songs would be performed that night. There would be no extravagant fog images or projected pensieve memories for the first performance.

Susan would be singing on her own for the first song. Having been at the Choir practices, Harry knew very well that she would need no other singers to make it emotional; she was quite capable of accomplishing it on her own. When the performance began, the piano and the drums came in first – the other instruments would join later. When the music began, Harry closed his eyes. His heart was hammering against his ribs, sending jolts of pain through his soul.

[Susan Bones]

_Don't know what to do anymore;_

_I've lost the only love worth fighting for._

_I'll drown in my tear-storming sea,_

_That would show you,_

_That would make you hurt like me._

_All the same..._

_I don't want mud-slinging games._

_It's such a shame_

_To let you walk away._

_Is there a chance?_

_A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel?_

_A reason to fight?_

_Is there a chance you may change your mind?_

_Or are we ashes and wine?_

_Don't know if our fate's already sealed;_

_This day's a spinning circus on a wheel._

_I'm ill with the thought of your kiss,_

_Coffee-laced, intoxicating, on her lips._

_Shut it out._

_I've got no claim on you now._

_Not allowed to wear your freedom down._

_Is there a chance?_

_A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel?_

_A reason to fight?_

_Is there a chance you may change your mind?_

_Or are we ashes and wine?_

_I'll tear myself away;_

_That is what you need._

_There is nothing left to say,_

_But_

_Is there a chance?_

_A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel?_

_A reason to fight?_

_Is there a chance you may change your mind?_

_Or are we ashes and wine?_

_The day's still ashes and wine._

_...Or are we ashes...?_

Several girls in the Great Hall were now crying. Even Hermione was a bit teary-eyed, though she tried her best to hide the fact. Though his hormones were all over the place, Harry steadfastly refused to give into the urge that the girls had succumbed to. Harry did not once look towards the Head Table, but he felt it when the intensity of Severus' stare increased. After the applause following the first performance died down, the Choir members began readying to perform the next number. Seamus Finnegan sang this time.

[Seamus Finnegan]

_Oh, you can hear me cry,_

_See my dreams all die,_

_From where you're standing_

_On your own._

_It's so quiet here_

_And I feel so cold._

_This house no longer_

_Feels like home._

_Oh, when you told me you'd leave_

_I felt like I couldn't breathe._

_My aching body fell to the floor._

_Then I called you at home;_

_You said that you weren't alone. _

_I should have known better._

_Now, it hurts much more._

_You caused my heart to bleed and_

_You still owe me a reason,_

'_Cause I can't figure out why..._

_Why I'm alone and freezing,_

_While you're in the bed that she's in._

_Oh, you can hear me cry,_

_See my dreams all die,_

_From where you're standing_

_On your own._

_It's so quiet here_

_And I feel so cold._

_This house no longer_

_Feels like home._

Harry rose from his chair while the Great Hall burst into subdued applause. They were clearly thinking about why anyone would write or sing songs that were that depressing. Well, they were in for another miserable one, once Harry reached the top of the hall. Walking up the aisle, his green eyes automatically sought out the glittering black ones he knew so well. Severus was still staring at him, his dark eyes flashing with so many indecipherable emotions, though one stood out quite clearly; pain.

A smile pulled at the corners of Harry's mouth upon seeing Severus' pain, though there was not a trace of happiness to be found. It was a smile filled with anger, betrayal, satisfaction and bitterness. When he reached the top of the hall, he turned his back on Severus, knowing very well the action would make the man feel even more slighted. Harry conjured a stool and half-sat on it. "I can tell a number of you are a bit upset after those two performances. I'd say that I was sorry, but I'm not; I've got another one waiting for you. This next song is dedicated to my dear friend, Luna Lovegood, who escaped the clutches of the Dark Lord and his followers three weeks ago. Ginny and I will be singing this last song."

Once he finished speaking, he turned his head and nodded to Draco, who had been waiting for the signal. Draco took a deep, calming breath and began to play the piano, his fingers caressing the ivory keys, coaxing a depressing melody from the instrument.

[Harry Potter]

_A golden moment's come to pass_

_And it made a swift goodbye,_

_Waved its hand from left to right,_

_Saying bye, farewell, goodnight._

_But it left me brave and bold,_

_Like the Knights of ages past,_

_Leaving Courage_

_Like the dawn leaves dew upon the grass._

_As morning glories bloom,_

_So do some things in life this way._

_Rising early, but well-past noon,_

_They weaken, die and fade._

_But there's many prospective buds_

_Still clinging to the vine,_

_Waiting, in patience, to show_

_Their glory at later times._

[Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley]

_Oh, I got what I wanted_

_And I'll be afraid, no more,_

_And face all these toxic things_

'_Cause I have finally found my bravery._

_I got what I wanted_

_And I'll be afraid, no more,_

_And face all these toxic things_

'_Cause I have finally found my bravery._

The music continued on after Harry and Ginny fell into silence, continuing in its now intense counter-melody, until finally it ended on the piano in a sustained chord. There was a stretch of quiet in the Great Hall, before Hermione was up from the bench and sprinting up the length of the room, before colliding with Harry, throwing her arms around him. She almost bowled him over, but luckily he had braced himself for the impact, smiling sadly into her mass of bushy brown hair. Harry could tell she was crying into his shoulder, by the trembling of her limbs as she hugged him.

He hugged her back, leaning his face into her hair as his own eyes stung a little. Down by the Gryffindor table, Ron had stood up and was now clapping boisterously. Lavender Brown followed suit, as did Neville, Daphne, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Padma Patil – whose faces were quite obviously tear-stained as they remembered their fallen girlfriend and twin respectively. All across the Great Hall, students were rising from their benches, clapping and crying in remembrance of friends and family members who had already been lost to the war going on around them.

The truth of the matter was that, no matter what side they were on, they had all lost someone they had known or they had loved. They were all united in grief of some form. Harry rubbed a soothing hand in circles upon Hermione's back. Ginny was quick to join the hug; Luna was, after all, her best friend. After a long moment, the three of them broke apart. The Choir members gave curt bows, before dispersing as the students across the room began filing out of the Great Hall.

Harry could hear the scrape of chairs behind him, indicating that the Professors were beginning to rise. Harry was quick to get lost among the throng of students; he would not risk getting cornered by Severus. His heart was not strong enough to face him one-on-one, away from those that Harry still trusted. As the students filed out of the hall, Harry slipped away, dashing up a spiral staircase which was hidden behind a door pretending to be a wall. It brought him up to the third floor.

Harry let out a breath he had not been aware that he was holding. He entered an alcove behind a statue, which was flooded with darkness. With a long sigh, Harry leaned against the wall and sank down its length, to sit on the floor, his back pressed against the hard stone. Harry drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his, a small gesture of self-comfort. Harry focused on controlling his breathing as his heart raced in his chest, pounding against his ribs threateningly.

He rested his forehead against his knees, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He had finally calmed himself down when a voice startled him. "You should have made use of your cloak, if you wanted to disappear, Harry." His head jerked upwards, green eyes wide, and he stared at Severus, who was looming over him, wrapped in shadow and the usual black fabric. Harry's heart clenched painfully at the sight of his former lover, standing there, staring at him with those familiar and unfathomable black eyes, which glittered brightly despite the surrounding darkness.

"Piss off," Harry growled, his face quickly contorting with anger and bitterness. He tore his gaze away from the man, whom he still loved more than anything.

"Not until you listen to me," Severus replied calmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Harry rose to his feet. "Then, I guess I'm the one who has to do the pissing off; I'm not going to sit here and listen to you lie to my face." Harry pushed past him with the intention of returning to the Gryffindor Common Room, but Severus was too quick for him. Severus' hand, with crushing strength, shot out and wrapped itself around Harry's upper arm. Harry let out a gasp of shock as Severus hauled him backwards, practically slamming him up against the hard stone wall. It was a cruel parody of a similar stance that had occurred some months beforehand.

"Listen to me, you little shi –" Severus bit back the end of that word, his mouth contorting in a grimace. The man's nostrils flared briefly. It was clear he was trying to calm himself done and that he was intent on speaking to Harry in a reasonably civil manner, at least. Severus' body came in close to Harry's, his physical proximity causing a stirring between Harry's legs. His body and his hormones were far too familiar with the press of Severus' body. Severus' hands were pressed flat against the wall, caging him in.

A few weeks ago, Harry would have wrapped his arms and legs around the man and given into his body's desires, but now Harry was forcing himself to not react, to refrain from forgiving him – physically, at least. "I've been patient, Harry," Severus said softly, his voice controlled. "I've given you time to calm down, to let your hormones settle and your mental faculties take over. Now, I want you to listen to me. Listen carefully," he warned, his tone leaving little room for argument.

His heart pounding in his chest, Harry struck out, his open palm colliding harshly with Severus' cheek. The man had clearly been expecting it, however, turning his head in tandem with the force of Harry's slap. Severus did not reel backwards, but his hand did come to ensnare Harry's, before pinning it to the wall above Harry's head. He quickly took care of Harry's other hand, to spare himself another slap. Harry struggled against Severus' clutches, wriggling and squirming, but it did little save to arouse them both.

Severus made an effort to keep his breathing steady. "I know you're still hurting from what you saw," the Headmaster said gently. "I cannot change what you witnessed; I can only try to explain, if you would please give me the chance."

"Like hell," Harry snapped indignantly, panting, his face dark with the strength of his physical desire while his eyes burned with anger, bitterness and a deep sense of betrayal. "How can I take anything you say as truth?! You're an Occlumens!"

"You believed me before," Severus replied, his voice almost a growl.

"And look where it got me." The words were whispered, only just barely escaping Harry's lips. His hormones wobbled feebly inside him and his eyes stung as tears suddenly welled. Harry's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "Pinned to the wall by a man who had an affair."

"Merlin, you've devolved to a whole new level of stupid!" The Headmaster almost sounded as if the thought filled him with despair. Almost. "I didn't have an affair, you idiot. The fact that you think I would just proves that _I _know more about _you_, than _you _do about _me_." Harry rolled his eyes, not quite able to believe that Severus was actually saying that. The gesture caused Severus' jaw to click shut as it clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

"That's just it, you bastard," Harry growled, trying to pull his hands free. "I _didn't _think you would, until you proved to me just how inconceivably wrong I was!"

"You're not listening!"

"Why should I listen to a mouthful of lies?!" Harry might have continued to rant, but Severus – seeming to lose all of his patience with Harry – closed what little distance there had been between them. His mouth found Harry's with practiced ease. His kiss was fuelled by anger and hunger and so many unnameable emotions. Harry, stunned so terribly that his brain had dissolved into nothing more than soup, reacted accordingly. Harry's green eyes drifted closed for a long moment as he lost himself to the intensity of Severus' kiss.

When Severus' hands released Harry's wrists and travelled downwards to cup Harry's face as though he was a most precious treasure, Harry's brain caught up with his body. Harry brought his leg up swiftly and kneed Severus in the groin, hard, before shoving the man away. For moment Harry watched, with grim satisfaction, as Severus crumpled, his hands cupping his injured nether regions. The man was utterly winded; he clearly had not been expecting the blow. Severus looked up at him, his cheeks mottled with red, his dark eyes pained.

Harry almost flinched at the level of pain Severus' eyes showed, but he forced himself to ignore it. "Touch me again and I'll tell Remus about what happened three weeks ago," Harry threatened, his green eyes hard. With those final words, Harry hurried away, his arms wrapped around himself. Harry walked with his head down, using as many shortcuts as possible in order to reach Gryffindor Tower in good time. He told himself that Severus had deserved what he got, that he deserved the pain, that he deserved the injury for cutting Harry the way he had, when he had pinned Lord Slytherin against the wall.

He told himself he did not care, but he knew very well that he was lying to himself. He did care. He cared more than he should. It mattered to him that Severus was injured...that he was suffering...and that he had caused it. When he reached Gryffindor Tower, he slipped upstairs and headed up to the dormitory. After casting _Silencing Charms_ and a number of Wards upon his closed curtains, Harry laid down on his bed. His erection, which had not seemed so obvious due to his loose robes, pressed uncomfortably against the bed.

He turned over onto his back and murmured a spell to remove his clothes. His eyes drifting closed, he slipped his hand down and grasped his arousal. Thoughts of being pinned against the wall by his former lover pushed their way to the front of his mind. His cheeks flushed with shame, Harry gave into his needs. He prolonged his session of masturbation for as long as possible, thinking about Severus' hands and voice and lips – the memory of which still caused Harry's mouth to tingle with remembered passion.

The moans and sighs that escaped him, even as his eyes welled and tears slipped down his cheeks, were nothing compared to the noises he had made when Severus had pleasured him and it highlighted just how much of an effect the older man had had on him. When he came, it was accompanied by a distinct sense of loneliness and misery. Panting harshly, Harry used a charm to vanish his mess and turned over, pulling the blankets over him. He buried his face into his pillows and promised himself that he would not give into such temptations again.

A little part of himself knew that it was a promise that would, inevitably, be broken. Severus did things to him, even in his own head, that could have aroused a veritable saint. He knew he should be ashamed...that he should feel dirty for thinking of the man who had cheated on him...and he did...but mostly he was miserable.

To Be Continued.

The songs above are the property of their artists and blah. Making no profit. Don't sue.

Ashes and Wine by A Fine Frenzy

So Cold by Ben Cocks

Without Fear of Their Return by Weavers at the Loom (There's a wonderful HP video for this one on Youtube, called The Small Boy From the Cupboard by Eve Is The Apple [minus the spaces]) 


	27. Chapter 27

Title: Trust Book Two – Chapter Twenty-Seven.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Another chapter, yay! Sorry for the wait, guys. Between reading, trying to kick my computer addiction, working on original stuff and a writer's block for fanfiction, I haven't been able to write as much of this or of Blue October as I'd like. Hopefully, this will change in the coming weeks.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Weeks passed since Harry's encounter with Severus on the third floor, but they passed at an exaggerated slowness that irked him. Every day that passed, Severus tried to corner him and it was only with some quick thinking, fast reflexes and the help of Thrasos that allowed him to escape whenever the man did so. The man was exceptionally determined to speak to him again, though Harry could not imagine why. He had made his feelings on the matter perfectly clear; he would not listen to anymore of Severus' lies.

Harry had learned from his mistakes.

Standing in the bathroom, in the boys' dormitory, Harry stared at the reflection of himself in the mirror. The other boys were down at breakfast, Ron included – Hermione had dragged him off. The ginger had been ill recently and needed to regain his strength, by eating foods filled with vitamins and vital minerals. A grimace of bitterness tugged at the corners of Harry's mouth. He knew very well what it was like to puke up his guts; Ron, however, only had a stomach bug. _The lucky bugger_, Harry thought darkly.

Harry pulled up his robes and shirt and shoved his trousers down a little. Turning to the side, he looked at his reflection. His once flat abdomen now had a bump – a rather noticeable one, at that. Harry had an appointment with Madam Pomfrey later. Healer Pye, a member of the Order, would be joining them for the appointment. The Healer was much more qualified to deal with pregnancies than Madam Pomfrey was, though Harry's and Draco's situations were decidedly unique for now.

Harry moved one hand down and rested it lightly against his stomach. He knew his child was too small to kick yet, but...he would swear he could feel something pressing against his hand. He was almost convinced that it was a swirl of magic. Harry was aware that at this point in the pregnancies, the babies usually started to develop the first signs of magic, which would then be bolstered during breastfeeding. Harry, of course, would be unable to breastfeed his child, but he had thought of alternatives, such as wet nurses.

Hopefully, by the time he had to bring forth his child into the world, the war would be over and wet nurses would be more easily accessible. Harry's eyes narrowed at his reflection. He had absolutely rotten luck; it figured that something would like this would happen when they were so close to engaging Voldemort in a final battle. Draco, at least, had done so deliberately. In all honesty, Harry would not be surprised if the blond decided to avoid the coming battles. He would not blame him for it, either.

Harry, however, had little choice in the matter. Even though almost all the Horcruxes had been destroyed, Harry would still have to act as a form of bait in the coming battles. Voldemort would come running; he might not be stupid, but he was far from wise now that he had become a raging crack pot. It would all come to an end soon and he would be free to live his life the way he wished to. Harry was happy that he was pregnant, but the fact that he would be raising his child virtually on his own was...daunting, to say the least.

Harry idly rubbed his belly, saying softly, "You're going to mean a lot of trouble for me, you know that?" He shook his head, an almost amused expression crossing his face. "Just...try to cooperate with me, will you? I'll need you to leave my Magic alone; we can't risk the possibility of my spells not working. There's going to be a fight soon, you see," Harry explained quietly. "A very bad man is going to try and hurt us and everyone we love. We have to stop him so that you and everyone else will be able to live in a free and safe world."

The swirl of magic that he had felt earlier pulsed against his hand, almost imperceptibly, but Harry caught it. A mad grin pulled at his mouth and his hand shook with the first bit of excitement he had felt in the past few weeks. It was almost like getting a magical kick from his baby! Harry rubbed his abdomen for a few seconds more before hitching up his trousers and lowering his robes and shirt. He straightened himself up a bit and shouldered his satchel, unable to prevent a warm glow from suffusing his cheeks.

Harry could not wait to tell Hermione what he had just experienced. He left the bathroom quickly, heading down the stairs to the Common Room. Draco and Godric were entangled on the couch together. The elder Wizard had his head resting upon Draco's abdomen. The young man's hand carded through Godric's hair, fingertips idly caressing his scalp. Harry pursed his lips at the sight, his stomach doing uncomfortable flip-flops while his heart contracted painfully. Severus used to do that to him. _Shut up about Severus_, he snapped at himself.

"Morning," Harry said, filling his voice with almost painful cheer. He received two greetings in response and he quickly left the room, leaving the love birds alone. As soon as he was on the other side of the portrait hole he let out a breath he had not known he was holding. "Ugh, Harry, you're letting this get the better of you. You're better than that; get a grip!" Harry took a moment to calm himself down and headed for the Hospital Wing, where he knew Madam Pomfrey would be waiting.

Harry took as many shortcuts as possible, wanting to spend as little time out in the open as he could – just in case Severus happened to be prowling about the corridors. When Harry reached the Hospital Wing doors, he slipped inside, glancing surreptitiously behind him to make sure he was not being followed. He did not, after all, want anybody unimportant to know about his predicament just yet. It had taken some time, but Harry had finally told Ginny, Neville, Donny – who had already known, the little blighter – and Luna – who had returned to the school a few weeks back – about it. That had been as far as he was able to manage for the moment, but it was alright.

Harry pulled the infirmary doors closed behind him and cast his gaze about, looking for the Medi-Witch. He almost died when he found her, talking with Healer Pye...and Severus. Harry stared for a long moment, his heart pounding against his ribcage, his lungs constricting painfully.

Harry backed up against the door in an instant, wanting nothing more than to escape but at that precise moment Severus dragged his obsidian gaze up from Madam Pomfrey's face. Severus' eyes raked him and Harry was sure his skin had been torn open. He was waiting for the blood to spill forth, but nothing happened...nothing except for the excruciating agony his heart and his soul was going through as Severus gazed across the Hospital Wing at him. "Ah, Harry; glad to see you decided to be punctual."

Taking a breath – which was getting more difficult by the moment – Harry forced himself to calm down as much as possible. For a moment Harry was unsure how to address the man before him; after all, once upon a time this man had seen him in his most vulnerable of states...had touched him...kissed him...fucked him. Harry swallowed thickly, pushing the surging memories away quickly, deciding to address him as formally as possible. "What are you doing here, Headmaster? I wasn't aware that such private matters needed to be discussed with you."

Severus bristled and his mouth curled into a sneer. "I'm the father of that child you're carrying."

"Don't remind me," Harry snapped, folding his arms across his chest.

"I have the right to be present for this, as much as you do."

Harry glared at the man, running a hand through his messy hair. "Alright, fine. Whatever. Don't expect to be there for the delivery, when it comes. You might be the father, but you lost the right to say 'mine' when you got with Slytherin." Harry attempted to be nonchalant, waving the subject away, but he was certain that he did not quite manage to do so. Harry could have sworn he heard Severus growl, the sound sending his hormones into a cheerleading dance. Harry gripped his forearms tightly, fingers almost bruising his own flesh.

He had to stop himself from rushing madly across the room, throwing his arms around Severus' neck and kissing the man senseless. Taking another slow breath, Harry pushed himself away from the door, striding across the room. Severus watched his every movement, as if he were waiting for Harry to do exactly what he wanted to do. But that was ridiculous. Severus did not _want_ him, he wanted to _manipulate_ him. "Alright, Harry, onto the bed please," Madam Pomfrey said, changing the subject as smoothly as she could, given the circumstances.

Throwing one more glare at Severus, Harry did as the Medi-Witch ordered. Harry pulled his robes and the hem of his shirt upwards, revealing his abdomen for Healer Pye. Madam Pomfrey had explained the procedures to him some weeks before, so that he would not get skittish when the time came. Harry did his best to ignore the way that Severus' eyes were glittering as he watched Healer Pye approach the bed. Harry felt a little nervous as Pye whipped out his wand, but he swallowed thickly and squashed the feeling down.

Healer Pye pressed the tip of his wand to Harry's belly. His muscles twitched, shying away from the touch even as a swirl of magical energy pulsed against it. Harry's hand gripped the side of the bed so hard he thought it might snap in two. Off to the side, watching still, Severus snorted. Harry had trouble deciphering whether the man was amused by his actions or not. Harry threw a glare at him for good measure and the man had the audacity to smirk, his dark eyes burning.

_Fucker_, Harry thought darkly and his arm twitched with the urge to punch him in the jaw. Healer Pye, oblivious to the emotional turmoil Harry was going through, began the procedure without preamble. A stream of Latin phrases dropped from Pye's lips, much like a song. "You're about to hear the heart beat," Madam Pomfrey said softly, almost as if she was afraid to break the mood in the room. Suddenly that was all Harry could hear; the heart beat of his unborn child...but it was strange.

The heart beat seemed to echo...at different speeds. Harry was not the only person to frown. Healer Pye cancelled the incantation and began another one. When he came to the end of the incantation, an image began to form in the air above Harry's abdomen, though it was rather fuzzy. From the angle he was looking from he could not telling what exactly he was looking at. Healer Pye studied the virtual sonogram for a long moment, a wry smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I'm not sure if I should congratulate you or feel sorry for you..."

Harry sucked in a breath as he half sat up. "Is there...something wrong?"

Healer Pye laughed, the warm sound soothing Harry's nerves. "No; you're carrying triplets!"

The boy stared, eyes glazed over from shock, while Severus gasped. "What do you mean? Triplets?" Severus demanded, striding forward to see the sonogram with his own eyes. Harry stared at Severus as the man stared at the image before dragging his dark gaze upwards. The man's eyes glittered with an emotion that fled too quickly for Harry to decipher. "You _would _have to be unconventional, wouldn't you?!"

"It takes two to tango," Harry said, the words rushing out on a single breath as his cheeks filled with a blush of embarrassment. He tore his gaze away from the father of his children – _oh my god, triplets_, Harry's brain repeated on a loop – and looked at the Healer "Are we done here?" Healer Pye shook his head, amused, and informed him that he had a few tests to run first. Harry sighed and allowed the Healer to continue his work while Harry's brain dissolved into mush as he thought about the fact that he was carrying triplets.

What would he name them...

θθθ

Striding down the corridor to the dungeon, Bradley Dale braced himself in preparation for a meeting he was not certain he wanted to take place. But he supposed it had to; Merlin knew he had left the Werewolf stewing away in the dungeons since they had escaped. Part of him felt satisfied – the bastard had ripped the bones out of his arms, after all – but another...miniscule part of him felt sorry for the bugger. Bradley knew well what it was like to be a prisoner. He paused outside the door, feeling the urge to turn around and run away.

_Don't be a coward_, he scolded himself. Though his hand shook when he reached for the door handle, his head was held high. He turned the handle and pushed the door open, a pool of torchlight spilling in to the room from the corridor, illuminating the captive Werewolf. The man in question twitched as the light hit him, lifting his head to peer blearily out at him. Bradley's heart leapt into his throat. He automatically made to step back, but forcefully changed direction, stepping into the room.

Bradley concentrated on calming himself down, knowing that Werewolves could smell fear. He stepped further into the room, whipping out his wand as the door swung closed behind him, a nonverbal charm causing the torches around the room to erupt with marvellous light. He could imagine how horrible it was to be stuck in a room with no light. Greyback blinked repeatedly, a drop of moisture escaping from his eyelashes. Bradley pursed his lips, knowing the sudden exposure to light had caused it. "Have you had any visitors?" he queried, relieved when his voice had no trace of a tremor.

"Yes," Greyback answered, his eyes sliding open once more. His golden eyes stared across the room at Bradley, burning him with the intensity. Bradley fidgeted slightly. "There was a pregnant Witch – she had pink hair. There's been an elf or two; they bring me food and take me to the bathroom. They never stay though..."

_I wonder why_, commented a small voice in Bradley's mind, the tone dry. He had to suppress the urge to smile. Bradley took a few more steps forward, rubbing his arm nervously as he came yet closer to the bound man. "I came because I...wanted to thank you."

"For ripping your bones out?" Greyback asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"No," Bradley replied hotly, hands curling in indignation. "I want to _punch_ you for that. I'm thanking you for coming to our rescue."

Greyback shrugged one shoulder, though his eyes were now golden fire and filled with challenge. "Feel free."

"To thank you...? I just did..."

"No, stupid; to punch me," Greyback replied, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in amusement. "I assure you, I shan't feel it."

Bradley narrowed his eyes. "Are you implying I'm weak?"

"I'm implying that I'm made of stronger stuff than butter," the Werewolf retorted, his golden eyes glinting in the torchlight. That damnable smirk was still on his face. Anger pooled in Bradley's stomach and for a just a moment he let it control him. Without preamble he struck Greyback in the jaw, ploughing a vast amount of his strength into the blow, knocking his head back and sideways. Slowly, Greyback lifted his head back up, moving his jaw around as he eyed the Metamorphmagus. "That was...good. Well done."

Bradley stared at him, trying not to gape like a fish. He could not believe it; Greyback seemed almost pleased. Bradley conjured a chair and sat down, continuing to eye him in silence. "You're...weird," he finally said, resting a hand on his knee.

The corner of Greyback's mouth twitched. "I try." Bradley nibbled his bottom lip, fighting the urge to grin. He should not be amused by anything the man said, not after everything that had happened, not when he knew Greyback had caused so much misery in the past. As if he knew exactly what Bradley was thinking, Greyback's smirk broadened. "If you laugh...no one will know."

"I'll know," Bradley said simply.

"And I suppose discovering that a blood-thirsty killer, like me, could have a sense of humour is so shocking it would cause you to explode in a rain of gore."

"Just about." The tiniest amused smile tugged at the corners of Bradley's mouth, forcing him to look away, but not before he had seen the flash of triumph in golden eyes. Bradley tapped an unsteady rhythm against his knee, thoughts whirring through his mind faster than he could really appreciate them. "I don't suppose there would be any use asking for a promise from you."

"What kind of promise?" Greyback's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he shifted in his chair slightly, the chains rattling with his movement.

"The kind where you promise not to harm anyone when this is all over."

"I can't make that promise."

"Why not?"

"Because you're mine and anyone who touches you without my permission will have to answer to me." As soon as the words left the Werewolf's mouth Greyback growled, the sound low and animalistic. A chill ran down Bradley's spine, causing goose bumps to rise on his flesh. The problem was...it was not out of fright – at least, not entirely.

"I don't belong to anyone," Bradley snapped, angry with himself for feeling that shiver of lust at all.

"Even so," Greyback replied calmly. "I'd harm anyone who dared to lay a hand on you." Bradley frowned, not quite sure how he felt about that or even how he should feel about it. This was all so confusing...

To Be Continued

Aw, Gredley *hearts*


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